Edward's Bella
by litmajoronleave
Summary: Nothing's troubling Edward. No great tragedy in his life or skeletons in his closet. His world and his life are just fine. That is, until he meets disturbed and mysterious Bella on the plane on his way back to Chicago. AH-OOC/EdwardPOV
1. Love, like death

Twilight's **Stephenie Meyer's**. The M-rating is for language, suicide content (no one will die) and lime/lemons.

**Chapter1/Love, like death**

Fuck if I wasn't the last passenger to board the plane. I wanted to yell at the airport official to hurry the fuck up. I almost ripped my boarding pass from him before running on the flight gate passage way.

I was greeted with stony faces but ... ah well. Really glad I was flying first class, courtesy of my parents. I hurried to my assigned number.

The window seat next to mine was already occupied. I was expecting an irate stranger's glare for being tardy.

God, please, let it be female so I could charm her panties off of her. I grinned at the thought. I turned to my seatmate. Female. Good.

She appeared to be sleeping, turned away towards the small window. I could see little of her face, it was concealed by her long brownish hair.

I was seriously thinking of letting her keep both seats and find a place for myself alone but I didn't want the flight attendants to order me back here so I sat down beside the sleeping girl, careful not to disturb her. I would wait until we were airborne and the cabin lights turned off before I go hunting.

I needed to think my next move anyway. I would be in college soon and damned if I had any idea what I would fucking do with it.

I closed my eyes remembering Carlisle's often-repeated summation of Edward Cullen. _Egotistical. Domineering. Overindulgent. Too many girls wrapped around my ... _

My mind shut down, refusing to recall _that_ conversation with my father. I mentally slammed the door on the good doctor, for now.

I focused on what was waiting for me, which was three weeks in Chicago with my brother Emmett and my sister's boyfriend, Jasper. They arrived a week ago. Alice was there now too.

As soon as I was buckled in, the plane moved in preparation for ascent.

I observed my sleeping seatmate. She looked depleted and fast sleep. How could that be? I was only 15 minutes late boarding the plane. She couldn't have fallen into deep slumber in just short a time. Her breathing was slow but somehow labored, as if she had been crying.

We had to wait for a quarter of an hour more before takeoff. My eyes were drawn to the girl. What happened to her that she could be this exhausted?

The plane increased engine power and we were off the ground.

The girl awoke abruptly, gasping. She grabbed my hand on the armrest between us, sending an electric current all along my arm and body.

She was startled by the ascending aircraft. I froze. Her small hand was cold as she gripped mine hard.

Motionless, she stared fixedly forward. I wanted to look away, pretend that I wasn't mesmerized by her ashen face but my eyes were glued to her profile.

Slowly, she turned her head to look at me, bemused at first then her expression cleared as if she knew who I was.

The moment I locked eyes with her I felt a rush of heat and my chest constricted, my heart inflating and cramping its limited space. Clear, brown eyes watched me intently. I held my breath - which made my palpitations even more sharp -and I stared right back at her.

Her face was pale, heart-shaped, framed by her long wavy hair. When I started feeling lightheaded, I realized I had stopped breathing. I gulped air, still focused on her intriguing face.

I waited for her to speak. I knew I was still fixated on her face. She looked at our joined hands, her lips trembled and she bit her bottom lip hard, as if keeping inside a strong emotion.

"Are you alright?" I asked her, tone low.

I was concerned for her, even though she nearly gave me heart failure a moment ago. She looked ready to cry. I was afraid if I talk too loud she would break.

She nodded, still not looking at me. But she did not let go of my hand. She continued to stare at our clasped hands and she slowly laced her tiny fingers through mine. I drew a long breath.

I was stunned by the simple intimacy of this gesture. Who fucking knew holding hands could be this ... I failed to think of a more apt word except _arousing_. I exhaled harshly.

She snapped her eyes to me, her impassioned expression piercing, unsmiling.

The girl let go of my gaze and she leaned back in her seat. She closed her eyes, my hand in her tight grasp.

I did not move, not even a twitch. I could feel her fingers warming as they clutched mine, her thumb slowly stroking my forefinger.

She was doing it unconsciously and yet her touch was ...

I shivered.

Her touch was pure tactile sex.

I was ashamed to admit that there were two prominent muscles in my body that were pooling blood; one's pumping it and the other one was engorging itself in it. Both were pulsating and veiny.

She tormented me for another half hour.

Her eyes were closed the whole time and finally, she removed her hold on my hand.

I almost grabbed hers back but I stopped myself. I flexed my tingly fingers. I looked quickly at her less this action offended her. Her eyes remained shut.

I wanted to ask her what was wrong but I didn't want to intrude. She had an aura about her – elusive, frail and ethereal. She turned her body towards me, eyes still closed. Her breathing was not normal as if every inhale was an effort. I felt a strong urge to touch her face and offer her comfort.

A full hour passed. For what seemed like a hundred times I caught myself staring at her serene face.

_Look away, Cullen_. _Don't be fucking rude._

There was no one sitting in front of us, behind us and across the aisle. It was as if we were completely alone.

I could hear the flight attendants making their rounds, asking passengers their requirements, if any. Offering drinks, reading materials, blankets. I didn't mind this because I would know what her name was. As business class passengers, they would address us by name.

"Mr. Cullen, would you like a drink and something to read? Here's our movie list during the flight." The female cabin crew – I glanced at her ID badge her name was Amber – asked of me.

"Nothing for me, thank you," I replied.

The woman, Amber, surreptitiously looked down. I knew that coy look and I sighed, thinking she would slip a paper with her phone number to me later. She licked her lips.

I cleared my throat and inclined my head at my seatmate, who was still sleeping. I was disappointed when Amber, now looking at my mouth, turned away and spoke to the next aisle of passengers, not wanting to disturb the silent girl.

I forced myself to look straight ahead. I was so very aware of my seatmate's slow breathing and the occasional deep sighing.

And was that a moan? I closed my eyes.

That sound – that breathy sound she was making was doing fuck things to my dick. I knew she was asleep. I almost want to wake her up and do ... what? _"Excuse me miss, but you exhaling air that way is stimulating my penis. Do you mind?"_ was not something you would say to a stranger. At least, not on the plane.

I looked at her face again. What happened to her? Should I ask her when she wakes up? Was she even planning to be lucid during this flight?

Another hour slipped by us. My attentive dick had subsided but would quiver a little whenever she would make that little moan-like whimper. I cheated a few times, gazing down at her.

Her skin was translucent, fragile-looking. Her frame was slender, small-boned. I estimated her height to be around 5'3 or 5'4. She was wearing thin clothes under her white cotton sweater. She must be cold.

Her face fascinates me it was so porcelain-pale. She couldn't be more than 16 years old. Her lips were pink and slightly parted as she slept.

I lost thirty-six hundred more seconds to time. By now, I had spent 180 minutes thinking about her – for most of that - when I should be planning my year-long school schedules. That was longer than I had ever allotted on a girl before.

With a mental shrug, I refocused on college and New Hampshire.

Ten seconds later I gave up.

My self-gratifying trivial life didn't seem to matter. I was not sure how it had happened but absurdly, I refuse to leave my seat now.

I could see there were several rows of empty seats behind us. For some reason, and I hoped not because I was depraved, _she_ interests me. A whole fucking lot.

I passed the time trying to guess the girl's name. She would have a classic name, an out-of-style name like mine. She could be an Elizabeth or Katherine with a sweet nickname like Lizzie or Katie. I glanced lower and noted that her neck and tiny hands - my eyes purposely avoiding her chest area - were pale and delicate, the same color as her face.

She would love to stay indoors; liked to read books all day long. She probably cooks. Her laugh would be musical and sweet. I could easily visualize her in too innocent surroundings. No one would want to hurt this girl. I felt a sudden burst of protective impulse towards this stranger.

I resumed my staring, which was a real compulsion now, imagining her life.

My jaw tightened at a sudden thought. Maybe she was heartbroken, possibly missing a boy. Of course a girl like this, with her face, would have a guy somewhere. It was ridiculous not to have thought of this before.

So that was it then, she broke off with her boyfriend and now she was in pain, dejected. Would he come after her? I _would_. Surprised, I straightened up and made myself look away.

This was not good. How long was I fixated on her face?

_Four fucking hours, Cullen_. _Maybe five._

I laughed soundlessly. I was obsessing with a stranger. I was too fascinated of the girl with the sad, too beautiful eyes. I was sexually aroused and she wasn't doing anything except breathe.

What if she was, indeed, attached? An emotion that I had no right to began to spread over me.

What was this?

_Jealousy_?

Fuck me.

So what if she was in a relationship with some stupid jackass. Who would leave her like this?

I gave her an eyeful again, as if I had no real choice but to gaze at her. My eyes absorbing every minute feature of her face, her smooth eyebrows, long eyelashes, pert nose and that mouth.

I groaned inwardly, dick throbbing.

I knew what was wrong with me. I was a man lusting after a woman with a face that makes men think sex.

A delicately appealing face, an Emma Lyon face.

How many times have I gazed with a bone-on at Lady Hamilton's portrait as Circe?

It was really not my fault. This was purely neurological.

Perhaps I should move. Vacate this seat now. Find another seat and let her be. I was seconds away from making that decision when I heard a small sound.

Relieved, I whipped my head back to her. She let out another deep sigh and her fingers twitched.

Open your eyes. _Please_. _Look at me_.

She did and she looked straight at me, her soft eyes – liquid brown this time –focusing on my own face as she gradually gained lucidity.

My thumping heart was finally going to induce cardiac arrest, I grimaced at the thought. I instinctively rubbed my chest.

I wanted to charm her with my lopsided lazy grin but my emotions were too wired.

Why was I so fucking nervous? I had waited for her to wake up for hours and I couldn't even utter one word, my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.

She frowned.

I held my breath.

Then she spoke for the first time, a mere whisper. "Where are we?"

I soaked up the sound of her melodic voice, felt it go through me. "We're somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean."

"Where are we going?" She turned her face away from me, as if suddenly shy. Her voice was soft, genteel.

I hesitated. My instincts telling me to tread carefully since a wrong answer could trigger something irrepressible within her.

"Where do you want to go?"

"I … don't know," she murmured, looking down at her hand and mine.

To my amazement, she laced our fingers tight. The same electric current traveled under and up my skin when she touched me.

I felt a little reckless. All I wanted was to make things easier for her, to remove that dejected look in her dark eyes.

"Tell me," I urged her. Her eyes flew up to me, startled.

"T-tell you ..." Her voice sounded panicked.

"Tell me what's wrong?" I finished for her.

"I don't know …" She trailed off, looking away. Her body stiffened and I knew without looking at her that her pale face had gone impossibly whiter.

Her silent suffering was making me crazy. I touched her arm lightly, hoping I would not frighten her. She didn't move.

I leaned down to her, my lips to her ear. "It's alright." I paused, knowing I meant every word. "I will take you where you want to go."

She turned her face, just inches from mine. I could smell her sweet breath. "I don't want to go home."

A tear rolled down her cheek. Our faces were so close her tear brushed my skin.

I didn't know how to answer that. I leaned away, my eyes never wavering from her face.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" It was a question I had waited too long to ask.

She shook her head, her free hand brushing her tears away. She sighed, looking at me apologetically, and closed her eyes again.

I clenched my teeth and prayed for patience. She let go of my hand. I suddenly felt empty.

I knew she would not sleep. Maybe she wants to be left alone. I would give her that.

I was about to get up but her eyes opened as soon as she felt me move. She grabbed my hand again, linking our fingers.

"Don't leave me," she pleaded.

There was something in her voice, a desperation that warned me she was about to go to pieces. But she was gazing up at me as if I was the only one who could hold her together.

"I may be disturbing you," I said at last. It took me a second to reply to her. My wits seemed to have left me.

"No," she said simply. "Don't go." She closed her eyes once more.

I stayed, but I kept my silence and I waited for her to speak to me again. Oddly, this was enough for me, for the moment. She still had possession of my hand and I tightened my fingers around her fragile ones. I barely stopped myself from taking her in my arms. I wanted to comfort her badly, however I could.

We didn't speak for awhile, just sat there, our shoulders touching and our hands wound tight.

She looked at me finally. She smiled a little. What the small expression did to her face made me catch my breath. My heartbeat was racing too fast.

"I think I'm hungry," she whispered.

I hate to let go of her hand but I need both to reach above our heads to get my bag of chips and bottled water in the overhead compartment.

"It's not a meal but this will do. They'll give us food soon," I promised her. "If that can't wait, I'm sure I can get you yours before everyone else's."

"Thank you." She nibbled at the chips slowly.

How could watching someone eat be that interesting? I find her gestures, the way her small mouth moves while she ate provocative. I barely knew her but I couldn't stop staring at her.

When she finished almost half of the bag, she opened her bottled water, drank from it and looked at me. I took the bag of chips and stored it in the front seat holder.

"Want a fuller meal now?"

"No, it was enough."

"How long has it been since your last meal?"

She frowned, thinking about it. "It's been awhile."

Wordlessly, I got up and looked for Amber. And as expected she didn't say no to me. I came back with the food.

She murmured her thanks and I watched her eating, again. She tried to share some of her food with me, which I did. I wasn't really hungry but I wanted her to be comfortable with me.

When she was done and the food taken away, she looked lost again. I asked her if she would like to go to the washroom. When she was settled back in her seat, she stayed quiet for awhile, looking down at her hands.

I was content to gawk at her. I knew that she was aware that I was watching her. She didn't seem to mind that at all. I was sure she was used to people ogling her and that was exactly what I was doing.

I realized that soon we would get off this plane. Six hours had passed since we took flight, which meant in less than two hours we would land.

The other passengers were served their food. The bosomy Amber, no surprise, lingered on me flirtatiously but I declined her service - both the food and whatever else she was offering. The flight attendants cleared all seats and dimmed the aisle lighting. It would be all over soon.

It felt strange for I miss this mysterious girl already. Not seeing her again would be unbearable, like losing a limb. I didn't even know her name. But I didn't ask her. I wanted her to volunteer the information. Disclosing her identity to me meant she wanted this not to end somehow, for the two of us to go beyond the last two hours, to continue to know each other.

But go beyond as what? Friends? Hell, no. I didn't want to be just friends with her.

I clenched my hands into fists. My still body alerted something in the sensitive girl. She moved, fully turning to me. I did the same and we were facing each other now.

She ran her eyes all over my face, her expression soft. I became still, hardly breathing. And when I did breathe, it was quickened.

What would it feel like to touch her face? And then suddenly, without conscious thought, I _was_ touching her face. I stared at my large hand, caressing that precious face.

She did not drop her eyes from mine but her cheeks flushed with healthy pink. Fucking adorable. Soft pink skin, not so pale anymore.

I stroked her cheek. She closed her eyes and sighed. I ran a fingertip to her eyebrows, tracing the line of her perfect nose and around her soft lips. I caressed her there, moving back and forth across the opening of her mouth, imagining my tongue doing that.

I wanted so much to touch my lips to hers, to take her breath into mine. To merge with her soul, to be that close to her as if we were silent lovers, lost in our own private bubble.

I guess I was dreaming because I suddenly felt her silky lips against mine. Did I move? I froze.

Unbelievably, I was kissing her. I was sucking on her bottom lip. Was I forcing this intimacy on her? I slowly opened my eyes – just realizing they were closed while I kissed her – and gazed at her, afraid to make a sudden move.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, not knowing why.

She opened her eyes, her gaze half-lidded.

"I kissed you," she whispered.

My eyes widened. Yes. She. Did.

She was leaning onto me, having been the one to close the gap between us. _She_ kissed _me_. I cupped her face and looked deeply into her eyes.

"In two hours we will land," I said, not liking this subject but I couldn't ignore it either. Knowing this, I started memorizing her exquisite face.

She leaned forward to brush her mouth with mine again. I forgot what we were talking about.

I tried to do this with my mouth closed. I didn't want to overwhelm her but she gently pulled my lower lip open and licked it. I tilted my head slightly to one side and slipped my tongue inside her mouth.

She pressed her body closer and our tongues mated, moving in a slow, circular motion. Her taste was pure.

It was she who broke the kiss after many minutes. She held my hand and leaned her head against my shoulder.

I could feel myself going numb. Was she saying goodbye?

"No," she murmured, as if in answer to my silent question. "I don't want to say goodbye," she said quietly, still not looking at me.

I put my hand under her chin, lifting her luminous eyes to me. "Tell me what you want me to do." I knew exactly what I wanted to do but this was all too new for me.

She hesitated, unsure. She started to pull away but I refused to let her move even an inch.

"I'm not going to say goodbye to you," I told her and I didn't care if I sound lunatic or worse, like a lovesick and obsessed boy.

She put her small hands to my face, tenderly stroking my scruffy jaw. She whispered intensely to me, "I don't know what to do or who I am anymore."

I absorbed her brown eyes, her sweet breath, her alluring scent and I could stand it no longer.

"Tell me your name."

She didn't answer that but pressed her lips against mine again. I opened my mouth and forced hers to open too. After several more rousing minutes, she murmured against my mouth: "Bella."

Perfect and beautiful, like the girl.

"Edward Cullen."

She blinked as if dazzled. "Edward?" she breathed my name.

She kissed my mouth with a bit more force this time, her fingers tangling in my hair. I raised the armrest between us so I could put my arms around her and pull her closer.

I kissed her like I wanted to from the first moment I looked into her brown eyes. I angled my head so I could access her mouth better.

When she bit my lower lip and then sucked on it, I put my arms around her waist and pulled her against me until she was almost lying across my length. I didn't want to startle her but my lips came down on her with more urgency. She opened her mouth and I slid my tongue inside, exploring every part of her luscious mouth.

I kissed her with eager passion and I almost completely lost my head when she moaned that sexy breathy sound only she could make and she put her arms around my neck and pulled herself even closer.

I lifted her onto my lap, not hiding that part of my body that was poking her hard in her stomach.

The way she was stroking my tongue was so fucking _good_. This was more than lust. The kiss was needy and desperate.

When she straddled me, I wrenched my mouth from hers. She whimpered and I calmed her, gently pushing her head on my shoulder, both of us panting.

I had to stop. I was seconds away from an embarrassing situation.

I took a deep breath. It was hard to believe that only seven hours ago, I didn't know this girl existed.

I held her trembling body closer. Her response was a tighter embrace, her crotch against my erection. She lifted her face and kissed me open-mouthed and I felt both pleasure and pain and I lost my grip on whatever flimsy control I had.

Someone cleared her throat. We both froze, still locked in the heated embrace. I tucked her head against my chest, hiding her.

I looked around the darkened aisle and nodded at the flight attendant, acknowledging her admonition.

After a few more moments, while the flight attendant completed her rounds, we were alone again or as much cocooned as we were in our little universe.

Bella lifted her head to look at me. Her eyes were blazing. I knew mine would be smoldering as well, my body still very much excited.

I smiled crookedly at her.

"Bella, what the hell did you do to me?"

My voice was soothing as if I hadn't been damned near exploding only minutes earlier.

"Edward ..." She rolled my name on her tongue as if tasting it. I felt my cock grow impossibly harder, my forced calm ebbing away. She had such a strong effect on me.

"Would you like to sit on your side now? You're wreaking too much havoc on my poor self."

She shook her head and hid her face on my chest again.

This was not a very comfortable position for me. I couldn't think straight with her like this. I was a teenager like herself after all and like all teenage boys I was prone to our legendary ornery testosterone.

My testosterone level was at all-time high, as it were. I hate to let her go but I need to if I was to survive the next few hours.

I shifted her weight and placed her in her seat, keeping my hold on her, my arm around her waist. She looked up at me sharply. I grinned at her, knowing that she didn't want to sit like this.

"I don't know if I can control myself," I said bluntly.

She blushed and put her arms around me. I kissed the top of her head.

"What do you want to do when we get off this plane?"

Her face turned deep red, I could tell, even in dimmed lighting.

Now what was she thinking? "What I meant was where do you want to go?"

"I'm not sure."

"Are there any options?" I prodded her.

She shrugged delicately. I wanted to ask her about her parents, her family, and why was she on this flight? But I didn't want her to be sad again. Better to discuss locations first.

"Do you want me to take you where I'm going?" I murmured to her, suddenly nervous.

"Where are you going?"

"To my brother in Chicago," I told her. "We were supposed to stay there until the end of the month."

She caught my intended meaning. "You were supposed to ..?"

"My plans will change, depending on where you want to go." It felt like a commitment, saying those words. Would she balk? Did she realize what I meant?

"I don't care where you take me."

I went still, digesting her words. She wanted to be with me?

"You will stay with me?"

She nodded, biting her lower lip. I stopped her doing that before she actually hurt herself and kissed her. I didn't want to take her words too literally. I didn't want to hope.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen," she said in a tone suggesting both vulnerability and defiance. This made her quiet for a moment as if it brought her cheerless memories. I lightly squeezed her arm.

"What is it?" I asked. She shook her head. "Your relatives could be looking for you," I said, and by the way she stiffened, I could tell I guessed right. That she ran away and nobody knew where she was right this very moment.

Why did she leave her home? Family disputes? Someone closed to her passed away? Grief would make anyone feel lost and adrift, disconnected, and she was so young to have to endure this alone.

"I tried to kill myself," she said quietly.

* * *

*****a/n**

I've re-posted the story to "re-chapterize". It will be exactly the same but the pacing will be different, in terms of word count. To all who left reviews before (sorry they were all deleted when I re-uploaded), I really, really appreciate your words of encouragement. To all who put it on alert and favorites, thanks for reading!

Lady Emma Hamilton as Circe was painted by George Romney (1782).

* * *

All character names in the story, except for some not generally recognized, belong to the author of The Twilight Saga. Plot lines and settings not identified or familiar to Twilight belong to the writer.


	2. Conflicted

**Stephenie Meyer** wrote the Twilight book series, all four of them.

**Chapter2/Conflicted**

She was suicidal. She tried to kill herself.

I squeezed her small hand, my mind went blank for a moment. Fuck, suicide was a serious crime.

I felt rage and guilt, my body hot and cold at the same time. I had a horrible premonition. Bella, lying lifeless on a bed and I was standing over her body - powerless, useless, slowly going insane.

That part of me, the aloof and indifferent one, assessed the girl.

A suicide attempt was a cry for help. They hurt themselves to get attention because they refuse or couldn't ask for help from family or friends.

What was it that she was trying to escape from? Did she cut herself?

I felt crass doing it but I slowly traced a fingertip to her left wrist and then the right, looking for a stitched line, hoping I wasn't too obvious about it.

She was trembling. I hugged her. I could feel the sobs that she was trying to rein in.

"Don't," I whispered. "Don't hold it in."

She sucked in a deep breath. "Do you think I'm crazy?" God, no!

"No," I said firmly. "No, Bella."

She was crying, her flowing tears soaking my plaid polo shirt. I hate to see her distressed but then I also wanted to shake her and ask her _why_?

Was it clinical?

Or emotional pressure?

Drugs?

A chemical imbalance or was she born this way?

_What way, Cullen! _I hissed at myself._ Were you born with mental illness, Bella?_

I couldn't do this. I restrained myself from asking her. All I could think of was that whatever she did in the past, or however her life was which led her to attempt suicide, then I would just have to find out all of this.

While she cried silently, my hand caressing her back, I was planning what to do next. Should I bring her home? I wanted to. Or, I could take her back to London and we could stay at my parents' house. With no Emmett in the house it would be quiet there and no one would bother her. She could decide what to do next.

Bella started hiccupping. I took her bottled water and coaxed her to drink from it. I waited until she had calmed down.

"If you want to we can go back to London," I said quietly. "Anywhere we want. We can go to our old house in Forks, if you prefer. Have you ever been to Washington?"

She shook her head. "What about your brother?" She was hoarse from crying. I didn't like hearing the sadness in her voice.

"It's no big deal," I assured her, and because I couldn't help it, I kissed her mouth. I tasted the saltiness of her tears.

"I'm not sure how soon we can book a flight back. We can stay in a hotel near the airport." I hoped she didn't hear the catch in my voice when I said hotel.

We remained sitting this way for another hour, talking quietly. Much of it was comfortable silence. I kept kissing her, unable to stop myself.

There was another hour when, exhausted from her bout of crying, she drifted off to a nap, nestled in my arms.

* * *

_"... landing in 20 minutes," _the captain announced the plane's descent, and then rattled off the names of his crew.

_Now what, Cullen?_

London seemed the better choice. I assumed her family was there.

As for my own, my parents would understand my relationship with her after I explain what this girl meant to me. I paused, considering that thought. Fuck, what relationship?

I took a deep breath, not quite ready to admit to my conflicted emotions. I would deal with that later. For the immediate time, better look after her first.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, suddenly amused.

When did I become responsible like this?

What freak of nature convinced me that I could solve all of her problems when I was probably just a horny bastard? A horny _sick_ bastard who was turned on by all this depressed chick shit?

I sighed and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. I pushed aside my doubts and if I could do this, or if I could help her at all.

I had no dark skeletons in my closet, except maybe my perpetual stiffy.

I had never felt inclined to search for something to fill an imagined void in my existence. I wouldn't say my life was perfect. I grimaced, thinking of my father. But I was content with my lot.

I couldn't be sure, however, how Esme would react when I bring Bella home. She was a psychiatrist by profession but she quit her practice. She had been spending more and more of her time rearranging all her expat friends' houses after doing the same thing to their psyches years before. Mom could double her annual income if she would combine her psychotherapy and her talent in interior designing sans the degree.

My sister, Alice, was the same in the creative department. Her expertise was clothing and finding those totally unnecessary accessories she swore was the foundation of her philosophy.

Once, when I was 10, I thought I could be an artist too but the music left me. One day I was composing notes, my mother's little Claude Debussy, and then - nothing. I couldn't create music anymore.

I didn't think it was because we were moving to London at the time. My mother was half-British and the family decided to relocate when she inherited her grandmother's "townhouse" which turned out to be a 20-room 18th century mansion in South Kensington.

She encouraged me to go to music school – the Royal Music College no less - and she tried to drag me there many, many times.

But the tragedy of love, in my case love of music, was indifference.

And then there was Carlisle, the primal father of the primal horde, I thought wryly. My father was a board member of UofC Medical Center. He had the brilliant idea of dividing his year to six months in the US and six months in London. This schedule had been his routine for the past five years.

When Alice and I got a little older, Esme would sometimes travel with him. I was sure my mother knew what we were about when we had the house all to ourselves for weeks.

By the time I was 16, I was one of the most oversexed motherfucker in the Greater London area. Girls loved the antique beds and my mop of messy bronze hair. I should have gone deaf and bald over the years what with the screaming, orgasmic females pulling savagely at my hair when I do wicked and rough.

Alice, claiming her mystical third eye was open and connected to the universe, predicted that this year, my parents would move back to the US for good. This made sense since Emmett and Alice and soon I, too, would be attending school there.

Emmett was a junior at UofC. Alice had been schooling at the Art Institute since she was 16. I was considering UofC too. It was one of five universities that I had been pre-qualified to go. My second choice was Dartmouth and the third was Yale. Hell of a second and third choice, I laughed silently.

My father was of the opinion that Dartmouth should be the preferred school if I was to go into medicine. His version of my future was as Dr. Edward Anthony Cullen. I smirked at that.

We had been on the same boring debate for years but we both knew it was my decision, ultimately.

* * *

When Bella woke up her eyes searched mine immediately. She smiled at me and hugged me closer. I liked that, as if she was used to my presence or we had known each other all our lives.

Instinctively, I tightened my hold on her. I remembered my premonition as the plane touched down.

It was past 10pm when we arrived at O'Hare. It always amazed me how busy and crowded this airport was. Even more hectic than Heathrow which was smaller than Chicago airport but big enough as far as European standards were concerned.

Bella was quiet through customs and baggage claims. Once, when we stood up together to deplane, I caught her scan my frame looking astonished at my height. I mentally shrugged. I hoped it didn't bother her that I was towering over her petite self.

I wasn't too worried though. She was clinging to my hand as if I might disappear on her if she let go. I frowned at that, wondering at her emotional state.

She didn't look around when I left her to get my luggage. She only had one carry-on spinner and a small holdall. I kept one eye on the rotating baggage carousel and the other on her, observing her in the crowd.

She was wearing a plain light-blue sundress that made her legs seem paler. I felt a twinge in my chest, like a burning itch while I was watching her.

She looked so isolated, standing by herself in a corner, fixedly staring at her shoes.

Some careless kid nearly collided with her and she stiffened, I could see it even this far.

She searched for me and when she found me, she smiled, relieved. The burning itch became a painful sensation.

As soon as we were cleared we walked to the reservations desk to book our flight back. There was a circle of travelers around the counter. I disliked waiting.

I willed the lady behind the desk to look at me and when she did, I gave her a slanted smile. She blinked. _Wait for it._ She blushed, smiled and waved me over.

Bella gave me a silver plastic card and her passport. I shook my head at the credit card but I took her passport.

I glanced at it. Her full name was Isabella Marie Swan, US citizen, born on September 13, 1991. She looked so much younger.

Her shy question redirected my thoughts at once.

"Where will we sleep?"

I pushed away the graphic images that question immediately evoked.

"Tired?" I lightly stroked her arm.

I booked a PM flight to London for the following day. I also made reservations to a nearby hotel for the night. After that, I had no idea what to do next.


	3. Decisions

**Stephenie Meyer** wrote Twilight.

**Chapter3/Decisions**

An airport taxi drove us the 15 minutes to the hotel.

Bella didn't say anything while a porter led us to our room. I suppose I should have booked us separate rooms.

I took the card key and gave the porter his $5 tip so he would leave. Before I opened the door, I looked at her.

"We're sharing a room, Bella. I should have asked you first."

She didn't answer but she took the card key and opened the door herself. She went inside, leaving the door open. There was only one bed, big enough for two.

She stopped in the middle of the room, looking at it.

"I'll sleep on the sofa," I murmured.

She didn't acknowledge that. She took her bag and excused herself to go to the bathroom. I forced myself to relax.

I eyed the offending sofa, scowling at the furniture. It was too short for my 6'2 frame. I sighed.

I turned on the TV and waited for her. Or maybe I should leave the room? Give her some time to herself? I did just that but I left her a note, promising to come back after half an hour.

We need food. I wasn't in the mood for room service so I opted to hunt outside of the building. There were several fast food chains nearby. I decided to buy us burgers.

There was a 24-hour salad bar resto beside McDonald's. I bought her greens and a light pasta dish. It was what Alice would eat, I figured, so maybe Bella would prefer greens to red meat.

While waiting for the food, I called Jasper to tell him of my revised plans. I purposely avoided contacting my siblings who would have a million questions which I had no answers.

Since I would probably ask him for a big favor later, I called Carlisle first – he was already up at this time - to inform him that I had arrived safely, as what every good and obedient son would do, right?

I didn't tell Jasper about Bella. I wasn't ready yet to share her with anyone. I only told him that I would be returning to London the next day, firmly reminding him not to disclose this to Alice. I mentioned some emergency but that I would explain later.

He was a good, long-time friend, Jasper. He chose not to go to college and told everyone he was a professional slacker and Alice's full-time beau.

His parents were cool with it. His sister, Rosalie, who was Emmett's on and off girlfriend, was not. She had blamed me for her "lazy sonofabitch" younger brother.

"Alice is going to wonder where the hell you are in the morning. She hates not knowing anything," Jasper warned.

"You'll calm her. You always do and you have your ways," I snickered at him.

"Where are you again? Are you lost?" He persisted but I ignored that.

"I'll tell you when I get there," I said, my tone sarcastic.

"What about college? You joining my bum brigade now?"

He said it rather seriously. This was his lifestyle and he was not taking shit from anyone. He had enough of that from his own sister.

"Fuck, I don't know. Not now."

"Your life, dude," was his only reply.

I laughed. "You know you can be more eloquent than that, _dude_."

"Whatever. Call when you ran out of money." And we both cut-off.

I didn't have to go into details because Jasper and I were like that, no bullshit. He simply accepted what I was telling him for now.

* * *

When I returned to the room, Bella was sitting on the sofa and drinking water. Her hair was wet and she was wearing matching white sleeveless shirt and pajamas. Her clean face brightened when she saw I brought food.

"Thank you!" she said fervently, as if I brought her the best steak in town. She was practically bouncing.

"It's just burgers," I said, grinning. My eyes panned her chest briefly, unable to stop my testosterone-driven reflex. For a petite girl, she was blessed with more than fist-size tits. My right palm tingled and I quickly shoved my hand in my hoodie pocket less it developed a brain of its own or some shit.

"I love burgers!" She took the food and arranged it carefully on a table that she pushed near the sofa so we could eat and watch TV comfortably.

She set the food very neatly, as if this was a formal dinner and not just fatty goodness with two slices of cheese. Vincent Vega's McRoyal, I smirked to myself, remembering that inane yet profound conversation in Pulp Fiction. Fucking classic, that.

She smiled a little when she saw her salad. She took me by surprise when she reached up and kissed my cheek, murmuring her gratitude again. And fuck if I didn't feel my face reddening at that simple asexual gesture. She was appreciative and easy to please. Two more Bella qualities I liked.

I watched her, bemused. I suspect I was looking besotted so I quickly rearranged my expression. Discreetly, I adjusted the seat of my jeans.

Bella passed me the TV remote out of politeness. We ate in silence.

She ate slow and daintily. My food was gone in 80 seconds. She laughed when she saw this, offering her untouched pasta to me.

She was very generous, always ready to share her food. Three more positive character traits filed away.

I must admit I was still hungry so I ate half of her pasta. "Eat it all, it's yours. I'll be fuller with the vegetables," she said.

I was, again, done before she was. Satiated, I kicked off my shoes, uncoiling my body against the sofa.

Bella was still eating, sitting cross-legged and watching some news-slash-talk show. I had to tell her something but I waited until she finished her meal. That took another 15 minutes but I didn't mind.

When the table was cleared of leftovers, I turned to her.

"Can I ask you to do something?"

She nodded, waiting.

"I need you to call someone back home, tell them you're safe so they'd stop worrying about you," I said quietly.

She let out a sigh. "You're right." She reached around the sofa for her mobile phone, which was in her bag. She turned it on, frowning at what I assume were dozens of missed calls and unread messages, and dialed a key number.

She adjusted her body so she was facing me. "It's me," she said to the other line. I heard an explosion of sounds – panicked, shocked and finally anger laced with worry.

"No, I didn't mean to …" She tried to interrupt whoever was talking nonstop on the other end.

"Please stop! Listen to me," she said, pleading. She spoke a little slower and then became agitated again. "Don't call Renee!"

"I have to go …" More talk. "No, I'm fine I'm with -" She paused, looking at me. "I'm with a friend," she said quietly.

For _now_, I thought to myself, smiling at her.

"Promise me you won't call her. She doesn't know," she begged. What was it that this person, this Renee, didn't know? "Goodbye, Angela," she whispered and she cut the line.

She stared at me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I didn't know she was back in London," she said, perplexed.

Who was back in London? "Are you talking about this Renee?" I asked and after a brief hesitation, she confirmed that. "They are worried about you, Bella." I wanted to hug her to me, but I stayed in my corner.

"She blames my father's family for not watching me. For letting me get away," she said this without emotion. I closed the gap between us and took her in my arms.

She was trembling.

"I needed to go! To leave!" she sobbed, her head on my shoulder. "I could pretend …" She choked on her words and fell silent.

Her whole body was shaking. I locked my arms around her more firmly as if this would hold her together.

I tried to calm her, rubbing my hands up and down her back, making soothing noises.

She was breathing raggedly. "I could pretend that I was normal," she whispered.

I waited endless moments for her breathing to slow. And then she slumped against me, spent. I stroked her hair, shifting her body more comfortably. After awhile I felt her go limp.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?" she mumbled sleepily.

I continued to stare at her, my expression speculative. She started to fidget, looking nervously at me.

I wanted to ask her who Renee was and why was she on that plane bound to a place she didn't even know. Who was she running away from? Did this Renee hurt her? But I looked at her face and I softened. Not the right time to interrogate her.

"Bed?"

She raised her head and blinked at me. She relaxed a bit and finally, she smiled. She reached out her hand and lightly brushed my jaw.

"I'm sorry, Edward Cullen," she said softly. She was really upset but the sound of my full name on her lips had both a thrilling and peaceful effect on me.

She sighed and looked down. "When you got on the plane this morning, you didn't expect to sit next to a … to a c-crazy person."

"Best day of my life," I said, teasing her. I realized I meant it though. "And you're not crazy," I murmured.

She still wouldn't look at me. "I know it was mine," she said, so quietly I almost didn't hear it. "Best day of my life."

For a moment my lungs refused to function. I sucked in gulps of air and my senses were filled of her. Naturally my body reacted to that, not caring if she welcomes it or not. I sighed and forced my arms to leave her.

Still not looking at me, she got up. She emerged fresh from the bathroom several minutes later but I could see that she was really exhausted.

"Sleep well …" I dimmed the lampshade.

* * *

I spent a little more time than was necessary in the bathroom. A quick shower was my usual routine but I decided to soak. I tend to do my over-thinking in the tub and that was what I needed to do, to probe and dissect my intentions.

I filled my mind with thoughts of the girl.

What would I do with her? She was part of my life now, I was sure of it. I didn't think I could just go back to a life not thinking, even worrying about her.

I never dreamed I would want to take care of another human being other than members of my family. I refuse to think what kind of relationship we could have. It was all so new.

I massaged the bridge of my nose, thinking furiously. We were both adults under the law. There was money in the bank I had inherited from my great-grandmother. And, I could get a job.

I was assuming a lot of things here but I could work to support two people.

What if she needs medical attention?

What if I wasn't enough for her? Or if she couldn't be helped?

I could lose her.

I got up from the tub and quickly dried myself.

I wanted to see her face again. I needed to look at her.

Bella was sleeping on the sofa. She had probably thought that my large frame wouldn't fit in there and likely to hurt my back trying to get comfortable.

She was considerate and kind and that makes her better than good. I mentally threw the list away. Bella was a good person and that was that.

I wasn't having it though. She needed the bed more than I do and I would give her _anything_ to make this easier for her, I thought fiercely.

I carefully lifted her out of the sofa and placed her in the center of the bed. She moaned but didn't wake up. I watched her sleeping face. I was used to this now, watching her sleep.

Gazing down at her, I finally admitted what this was.

I saw and loved.

The weight and agony of the emotions going through me sent me to my knees beside the bed, knocked silly by the impact.

This was love? This stinging ache and tenderness at the center of my body, this was love? I stifled a broken laugh. No childish first love for me, huh?

I took a deep, shaky breath and laughed soundlessly. Fucking cliche, that's what this was. _Love at first sight, _I could almost hear Alice intoning dreamily. A human chemical reaction, my mother would have said. A neurochemical, endorphin reaction between two people, notwithstanding gender. And these things were fucking immediate like sunburst. I slowly grinned at the thought. My sister would never let me live this down.

I loved this girl. I probably loved her from the first moment her sad eyes looked up at me.

Who was it that said true love was rare? Who was that fucker? Everybody talks about true love - volumes of literature had been written on "soul" love. Songs and wordless compositions had been dedicated to this mystified subject. It had been generally romanticized to death for fucking centuries.

My eyes devoured her beautiful, glowing face.

God, Bella, it had to be you.

My lungs tightened and my skin prickled. I didn't think there was any choice about it. Not anymore.

I clenched my jaw, thinking of her past.

Would I get 60 years with you, Bella?

Would I even have a week? I doubted if 60 years would be enough to fully appreciate her, to love her completely.

"Edward." She sighed and I froze, scourging my brain for an acceptable reason why I was kneeling beside her and watching her sleep. I opened my mouth to explain but I realized she was still sleeping.

I leaned down and brushed her lips with mine, gently.

"Edward …" She whispered my name again. I smiled.

She was dreaming of me?

"Bella," I breathed into her ear. Perhaps my words would penetrate her dream. "I want to love you."

I choked back more words. I meant every damn phrases and sentences if these words would express what I felt for her, with all my soul. "All to myself alone." I caressed her cheek. "Mine alone."

My resolve intact, I felt drained. I took an inventory of myself. I was still the same - sane but clueless. Bella and this thing were both discovery and an abyss, like being sucked into a black hole.

I stretched and yawned. As I settled myself in the small sofa, sleep came for me very quickly. My last drifting thought was her angel's face … Like heaven … Sweet like sunshine. She would be the death of me.

* * *

*****a/n**

"True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen." - Francois Le Rochefoucauld. He was a French medieval nobleman.


	4. Burn

Twilight and everything in it belongs to **Stephenie Meyer **but I want Edward with Robert Pattinson's face, and messy hair, and stubble and, well ...

**a/n**: A little lime in this chapter

**Chapter4/Burn**

I woke up with a start as if someone called my name. Rousing from sleep, disoriented, I looked around.

Bella was standing near the bed, her face red and looking at me, her mouth open in a gasp.

Her hair – I took a moment to admire what the dawn sunlight from the open window was revealing in her hair, streaks as ruddy as her blushing cheeks - was all over her face, like bird's nest. The prettiest girl in the fucking planet.

I felt my body when I noticed the direction of her eyes. Hiding my dismayed expression, I looked down. I was wearing boxer shorts and a thin undershirt. I pulled the cushions under my head and laid it across my groin.

_Fuck_.

"Good morning," I said, trying for nonchalance.

"Um …" She stammered and ran for the bathroom.

Sonofafuckingbitch!

I was sweating now, gritting my teeth. I sat up, keeping the damn pillow on top my woody. I wanted so much to do something about my physical reaction to her but I couldn't. Ahh ...

This was true torture. It was early morning not even 7-fucking-am, the worst time for this.

The bathroom door opened. I struggled to keep a casual pose, as if I wasn't in pain, really. I didn't look at her face.

I heard her take a deep breath, listened to her walking towards me. She sat beside me.

"Edward?" she whispered, sliding closer to me.

I still wouldn't look at her.

"What are you doing, Bella?" I muttered. I refused to look at that tempting, come-hither face of hers. My body was raging for her, didn't she noticed that? Didn't she get that?

"I …" She faltered. She inched closer. I closed my eyes, breathing through my mouth.

The flesh in my arm was tingling as if she was touching me, the pleasurable sensation familiar by now. I could practically taste her skin, my teeth biting her pink, hard ... wet … Tongue bath … Fuck!

I couldn't bear it anymore. I got up and slammed the bathroom door behind me. I rubbed my unshaven face.

I tried to calm myself, not to imagine her smooth legs wrapped around my hips. I growled when the visions refused to leave my head. For lack of a better thing to do, I cleaned my mouth.

When I was sufficiently in control, I left the bathroom.

She was still on the sofa, her head bowed.

Contrite, I approached her and sat down, keeping some distance between us, just in case.

"That was uncouth of me," I mumbled, using my mother's favorite mind-your-manners word. "Please forgive me."

What she said next undid me, fucking finally.

"Don't you want me?" Her voice shook, vulnerable.

I lost it.

There was just so much a tormented 19-year old hot-blooded male could take. In a flash I was beside her and pushing her down on the sofa, my open mouth on hers, my tongue eagerly plunging inside.

I was still sentient enough not to crush her with my body but I inserted my knee between her legs and let her feel what she had done to me, rubbing it in.

She gasped and curled her fingers in my hair. I needed to feel all of her. Without breaking the kiss, I carried her body and laid her, almost roughly, flat on the bed.

I lifted her leg and around my back, right on my ass. I locked mouths with her with bruising passion and she kissed me back with as much craving her little body could give.

_I have to stop. _

I didn't want to stop so I put my arms around her and pulled her closer, my big hand sliding down her back and cupping her butt, my other hand lifting her upper body to me, crushing her gorgeous tits against my chest.

We both broke free for air but addicted to her taste, my tongue grazed her neck, licking and nibbling sensitive skin there.

She arched her back, moaning, and _that_ sound moistened the tip of my cock.

_If I don't stop now this will be over quickly_.

I inhaled her delicious fucking scent one last time and pulled away.

"Nooo…" She was clutching at my neck.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," I grunted. I wanted her so bad it was killing me to pull away from her. I loosened her hold on me.

"Please …" She was begging me for what? I took a deep, deep breath.

"You haven't done this, Bella. Your whole demeanor screams of it." I glared at her, daring her to contradict me.

"I want to do this," she said impulsively, kissing my scruffy jaw, her hand sliding dangerously low between our bodies.

I captured both her hands and held them above her head.

"I care about you, Bella. Don't you know that by now?" I growled at her, forcing my breathing to slow. "I will not do this with you, not here."

"Why?" Her expression was mutinous. I bit back a smile. She looked on the verge of a major tantrum. Like someone who was not used to not getting what she wanted.

"Not right now," I said pointedly. I couldn't help saying that. There was no doubt in my mind that I _will _make love with her someday. Soon. God, make it soon.

She flushed, looking down. Her warm breath on my face was making me forget why I shouldn't be intimate with her yet.

I let go of her hands, kissed her nose and got up. I sat on the sofa. I didn't bother to hide the evidence that would negate what I had just told her.

She sat up too, sitting cross-legged on the bed. We stared at each other.

_No, Cullen. Don't do it. _

She was an innocent and possibly not herself right now. She had been protected all her life. This was probably the first time that she had felt … like this. I groaned at the thought. I could fucking smell her innocence.

I assessed her body language. Her position was fluid, as if she would crawl to me any moment. But her expression was one of displeasure and she was pouting. I laughed silently at that, at my own self-cockblock.

She sat up straighter and she seemed to have decided to behave around me. Good. I thought of something to say to distract us both.

"Are you alright?"

She sighed, blushing. "You're thinking I'm a sad, sex-starved little bitch."

"Don't use that word on you."

"That I'm pathetic, unwanted and you're wishing you've never met me."

"Stop it, Bella," I said calmly.

She went rigid, her eyes widening. Her expression was one of apprehension.

Gently, "Bella …" I encouraged her this time.

"I don't want you to go away, Edward." Her fear turned to panic. Her eyes beseeched me to understand.

"I'm not going anywhere," I told her. It was a promise.

She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and looked straight at me, head held high. I smiled a little.

"Seven months ago my family committed me to a mental home ..." She paused.

She shook her head, as if trying to keep some memory at bay. "They thought I tried to kill myself," she murmured.

I nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"I didn't," she added hastily, nervous. And, quietly, "not that time."

"Charlie. My dad -" She stopped.

"What happened?" I gently prodded her when she didn't continue.

"My father … he was a suicide." Her tone of voice was impassive. "His mother was a suicide," she continued, still sounding numb.

She pointed to her head. "My mom … Renee … she thinks I too have what made them kill themselves." She shook her head again, as if berating herself.

"My own mother was afraid of me," she said, frowning. "She loved my father very much. She couldn't bear to lose me that way too. So she left."

"But they are looking for you now, that's what your friend told you last night," I reminded her.

"Yes." She looked at me, worrying her lower lip. "I don't want them to find me yet, Edward." She closed her eyes, a tear escaping slowly down her cheek. "She never said goodbye."

"When we're in London, she will find you. It's inevitable, Bella." I didn't want to lie to her.

She nodded. She spoke very, very softly. "She's all I have."

I knew what she was trying to tell me. I went to her, lifting her chin so I could gaze in her deep brown eyes. "I could live here in Chicago or anywhere if you want to stay here."

She blinked back tears. "Do you think … you could really do that?"

"Yes," I whispered, kissing her lips. The phone rang suddenly. We both jumped.

"Our wake up call," I scowled. "We should order breakfast. We have a long flight later."

I leaned down and kissed her again, ignoring what I just said. Her response had a flavor of desperation, her hands gripping my shirt. She sighed. I lifted my head and looked at her.

"I feel … odd," she murmured.

So did I, but I had another word for what I felt for her.

"Tell me …" I encouraged her. I realized I had to know.

She looked away, biting her lower lip again. She inhaled sharply. I could feel her heart was thumping double time.

"Bella ..." I breathed her name. She turned agonized eyes on me.

I tried to smile, but I was too intent on her answer. Her beautiful dark eyes turned liquid and I drowned in them.

"Say it," I said. I knew I was almost pleading. I needed to hear her say the words.

She shook her head. She wasn't ready. I felt that familiar throbbing burn in my chest.

I struggled to contain my emotions, my fingers clenching hard, hoping it would stop me from bursting out with it. I shuddered and looked at her. She was mirroring my pained expression.

I crushed her to me, trying to absorb all of her. There were no words to describe the streak of strong feelings going through me, all involuntary and all for her. "I know," I whispered.

She sighed and then giggled. I relaxed a bit, grinning.

"No … I don't think you know." Her hands clutched mine, her eyes fluttering. She placed our joined hands close to her heart.

My own heart was skipping beats, it was going that fast.

She was still beaming at me but I turned serious, gazing deeply into her eyes. "Not to sound stalkerish, but I want to hide you, Bella." The hell with keeping this bottled up inside me. "The thought of your family taking you away, forcing me out, is unbearable."

She kissed me. "I'm 18, Edward. And you're …" She raised her eyebrow at me.

I smiled. "Nineteen."

"Really? You seem older, so responsible. Caring, considerate and loving."

"That's because I'm with you, sweetheart."

She blushed. "I don't want to have to live far from you."

I went still, trying to read between the lines. "Unless you want to live with me …" I trailed off, questioning.

She heaved a sigh.

I leaned down and kissed her softly. Then I heard her stomach growling.

"It's time to eat." I laughed, getting up and ordering room service. We both decided to resume this conversation at the airport later.


	5. Unpredictable

**Stephenie Meyer **thinks Robert Pattinson is perfect as Edward Cullen.

**Chapter5/Unpredictable**

A fragile shield. That was the only visual I could summon, looking sideways at her pale face.

Bella was too quiet and reserved on our ride back to the airport, as if a shroud or a shell was protecting her to shut everyone out.

She was smiling and even a little playful earlier but as soon as we were inside the taxi, she became silent. I wanted to hug her but I settled for hand-holding. Her tiny hand was cold.

I didn't bore her with mindless chatter. But what was she upset about? Or was that the correct word? She was looking down in her lap, at our joined hands. No, not upset. She looked miserable.

When we got to the crowded airport, she pressed her body close to my side, so I put my arm around her and guided her through the mass of travelers.

There was a long line at our airline counter which slightly irritated me. I prefer timing my arrivals and goings so I didn't have to be subjected to lingering or downtime. I wasn't always successful though, like what happened in Heathrow.

I had missed three, maybe four flights in the past, to Carlisle's annoyance. I nearly didn't make it yesterday and I felt chilled thinking that. I would never have met Bella if I was too late for the flight.

I looked at her, quietly waiting in line, squeezing my hand. I would have lost her, never know she existed. The thought was more painful than I expected and I had to close my eyes at that.

She made a stressed, raspy sound.

I opened my eyes and turned to her. She was tensed, fixated at the airline official manning the counter. She was frowning and clutching the shoulder strap of her holdall in a death grip. I waited for her to acknowledge me. She didn't speak but she started pulling me away from the line.

It didn't occur to me to resist, thinking she wanted a little privacy to talk with me. But when she began tugging my hand to get further away, I looked back at our luggage, sitting as our silent representatives in the column of passengers.

"Bella," I stopped her stride. "We need to stay close or we'll lose our line."

She remained mute, staring at the flashing digital board detailing flight numbers and status. She stood motionless and that alarmed me a little.

I cupped her face, puzzled. What I saw in her brown eyes chilled me down to my bones, like a cold ripple. It was as if she had frosted chocolate orbs for eyes, they were hard and empty.

"Bella," I said slowly, worried now. "What is it?"

Her face was cold, paralyzed. Her blank eyes were on me but I knew she didn't see me at all. I suppressed the urge to shake her. I smoothed her forehead and murmured calming words to her.

_She's zoning out_.

I placed her hands to my face, hoping it would trigger something familiar to her.

"Bella," I whispered urgently, my lips numbed. "Bella, sweetheart, listen to my voice."

_Snap the fuck out of it, Bella! _

I struggled to remain imperturbable in the face of a decelerating situation.

God, I was out of my league here.

_Manic defense_, my mother's voice suddenly floated inside my head. _Form of defensive behavior exhibited by persons who defend themselves against anxiety, guilt, depression … _Fuck, no. I continued to caress her face, willing her to defrost or something, anything. I coaxed her to breathe slow.

"You are a smart, courageous and sensual woman, Bella," I whispered to her, not caring if anyone could hear me. "I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you."

I continued to talk quietly to her, caressing her pale cheeks. After a long while her body gave a sudden jolt and she blinked her eyes, like ice melting. Slowly, slowly her frozen expression became dazed, her eyes like those of a newborn infant.

"Bella …" I whispered, uncertain.

She moved her lips in a moue. Her mouth trembled as if she was just learning to speak.

"Edward?" Her voice was the equivalent of her expression, rattled.

"Yes, Bella, what is it?" At this point if she wanted me to set fire at the damn ticketing counter I would gladly fucking do so. My feelings of relief were turning into violent tendencies.

I berated myself repeatedly. _She was standing here helpless and I couldn't fucking help her! _

"Edward," she whispered.

I took a deep breath, bracing myself.

"Can we stay here?"

I was speechless for a moment. I wasn't expecting her request.

"You don't want to go on that flight?" I clarified.

She nodded once, looking uncomfortable and apologetic at the same time.

I didn't discuss it with her further but strolled over to our stuff, gave her hers, and we walked away.

I knew my movements were jerky but I was trying to conceal my conflicted emotions. I brought her to a small cluster of empty chairs in a corner. It was partly hidden by an indoor billboard.

We sat down and I waited for her to continue. When she didn't speak, obviously nervous and still befuddled, I took her cold hand.

"I'm not that eager to go back to London, Bella. It's alright."

"I'm just happy to be with you," I added when she remained quiet. She slowly nodded.

I sighed. Something was troubling Bella very badly. I had thought of several theories on that but still uncertain about its true nature.

But it was clear to me that my time with her was the happiest of my life so far. Or, maybe all my time spent with her would always make me happy.

Granted she was – and I hate to use this word – suicidal, and she was obviously suffering from a neurosis but I persisted in arguing that a personality disorder was curable. It was hard to treat and most patients would not get better but they do get manageable over time with therapy and counseling.

I look at Bella as a person, not a diagnosis. The longer I was with her, the more I was beguiled by her. We were new to each other yet I could tell she was intelligent and perceptive.

My eyes roamed her face and I lightly stroked her hair, pulling a few strands behind her ear. Touching her was calming my nerves, my silent blowout of anger receding.

I wanted the true Bella, who was spirited and vital. That she was melancholic Bella - for now - was just something I had to live with.

"May I kiss you, Bella?" I asked softly.

I was shaking with a raw need to touch her, to absorb her. She turned to me immediately and put her arms around my neck. It never fails to astound me how aggressive she was sexually for such an outwardly demure girl.

I pulled her closer, breathing in her warm scent, and kissed her. It wasn't a tentative kiss it was fervent. We both wanted to connect and were greedy about it.

She pulled away, gasping and blazed up at me. "Don't be mad at me, please! I'm sorry … I'm sorry, don't be mad." And she fused her mouth with mine again, frenzied and a little desperate.

She grabbed my hand and pushed it on her breast. I froze.

"Touch me," she pleaded. "I'll give you anything, everything, whatever you want, Edward. Please."

I groped, I couldn't help it. I knew I was going to stop soon, hearing the anguish and worry in her voice. But I was a fucking masochist so I squeezed and rubbed her covered nipple with my open palm before pushing her away, trying to be fucking gentle about it.

She made an anxious sound but I shushed her and dropped soothing little kisses on the corner of her mouth. I continued to caress her back and arm until our breathing slowed.

"Are you okay?" I asked. She nodded, making an effort at a smile. I kissed her cheek and lifted her so we were sitting closer, my arm around her.

I deliberately emptied my head of speculations why she changed her mind.

I massaged the bridge of my nose. I felt a mild tingling pressure at the left side corner of my head. No, I would not over-think. Just this once I refuse to indulge my introspective self. I wanted to delay looking inwards, examining thoughts and feelings.

I hate feeling fucking inadequate. It was a defense mechanism. Whenever I felt less in control, I shut off my insight and yes, I was capable of doing that. I refuse to be disturbed by my thoughts because they were subjective. I would rather focus on Bella now.

I let 10 minutes pass, giving both of us time to simmer down.

I brushed my lips close to her ear. "What are you thinking?" I murmured. My mouth slid down to her neck and lightly nuzzled her soft skin.

Bella seemed to want to share my mood so I mentally took a breather and joined her in her protective shell, not to invade and force her out, but to hide myself as well.

She shyly asked me what I had been doing all this time.

"Nothing," I told her, teasing.

"Torturing my sister, my mother, my brother and my friend Jasper," I said, intentionally leaving out my father because Carlisle's torment about his youngest son was pretty much the real thing. I chuckled to myself.

She was silent for a moment, leaning her head against my chest.

"You have a sister?"

"Alice. She's 17."

"Where is she?"

"Here, with my brother Emmett and her boyfriend Jasper."

I lazily flicked my tongue near her small ear. She quivered, satisfying me with a small moan.

"With your parents?" she gasped.

I inhaled the strawberry scent of her hair.

"London," I said, distracted, my hand slowly caressing her stomach. "My siblings live here because they go to school here."

"And you're here to join them?" Her breathing was a little labored, her eyes fluttering close.

"Yes." I slipped my hand under her shirtblouse, touching her hot skin finally. I paused, gauging her reaction.

"For how long?" She bit her lip, stifling what sounded like mewling.

Very slowly, I stroked her ribcage in a circling motion. Her heart was beating erratically.

"Until I finish college." I shrugged.

I looked around and noticed that the stream of travelers had grown. They were arriving by the flock and most were visitors.

Chicago attracts about 40-45 million tourists every year, even during the dark winters they come here. My mental jabbering was a decoy because I couldn't bear to stop what I was doing.

I would rather get arrested for indecent exposure than remove my hand from her body.

Gritting my teeth, cursing my dick, I stopped. Bella whimpered and I lightly squeezed her arm.

"What is it that you like doing?" she asked me moments later.

_You_, I thought willfully. In the near future.

"I used to love playing the piano," I said instead, surprised that I even considered music again and even more surprised that I told her about it.

She looked up at me. "Do you sing?"

"Yes." I smirked at her.

"Why did you stop playing the piano?"

"I lost the interest," I said, shrugging again.

"What else do you like doing?" she asked, arching a little eyebrow at me.

"What do you think?"

My hot stare slid down her body with all the hunger that was within me. The way I was looking at her now, stripped of all civility, would have made her take a step back in alarm were we standing.

Her breathing hitched, gazing up at me with dazed eyes.

"I … um … you're very good." She looked away and cleared her throat.

I laughed again, kissing her cheek.

We were quiet for awhile.

"Do you want to sleep?" I asked her. She shook her head.

"Bella." I wanted her to look at me when I asked my question. She raised her eyes to me and the answer was already there.

"Why are you with me?"

She stared at me for a long while.

"Your hand," she said softly.

"My what?"

She smiled, and tried to explain. "I was dreaming, on the plane? I woke up and I wanted to scream." She looked at me, her face in remembered pain. "But I felt your hand and your touch … it's like a tranquilizer." She fell silent, but her clear brown eyes did not drop from mine.

I wasn't sure how to read that. Being described as a sedative drug was pretty cool - so long as she didn't mean I was so boring I put her to sleep.

I sighed with exaggeration. "Wonder what did I do? To deserve this."

Bella smiled. "You stayed." She kissed me gently, her tongue languidly flicking against my upper lip.

I felt more aroused than I should be at her sweet kiss. She stopped, looked at me and placed her palm against my heart.

That familiar electric current flowed through her body to mine and the palm against my chest was vibrating with it.

"Do you feel that?" she murmured, awed.

"Yes," I whispered.

She looked at me through her lashes and my flow of air stopped. "Where have you been, Edward?"

"Waiting." I kissed her forehead. "Questioning everything." I kissed her fingertips. "And here you are."

Her eyes softened and we were quiet again, content for awhile.

"Do you think your family will like me?" she asked me without guile, surprising me with her question.

"Yes, especially my brother," I assured her. Emmett had a weakness for petite women but that had changed when he fell for a statuesque blonde after a string of diminutive girlfriends.

"Edward?" she said tentatively. "Renee is not like other mothers."

I took that as a warning, as she meant it to be. "She can't keep me away from you," I told her, meaning it.

She sighed. "Promise?"

"Yes, Bella, I promise." I lifted her chin so I could directly peer in her eyes. "Now tell me why you decided to stay."

She blanched, looking confused again. I immediately retreated.

"It's alright," I murmured. But I had to ask her another question. It was something that had been bothering me since she zoned out earlier.

"In Heathrow, when you boarded the plane. Do you remember that?" I asked softly.

She looked lost and disconcerted, and near to tears.

"I don't remember," she whispered.

It happened to her before then, in London. That was why she was unaware of her surroundings when she woke up on the plane and why she didn't know where she was going.

I decided to leave it at that.

I didn't force her to talk about her mother or if she realized that she had brief catatonic-type episodes. She would tell me about her mother when she was ready.


	6. Home

**Stephenie Meyer **owns Twilight series_._

**Chapter6/Home**

My iPhone came alive and vibrated insistently in my pocket.

I took it out and saw that Alice was calling me. I excused myself and answered my mobile.

Privacy was always wise when it came to an irritated Alice. Her high-pitch voice, when agitated, could wake up the dead.

"If you want answers then don't start screaming at me," I said firmly before she could articulate a sound.

She was shrieking anyway.

"Edward Cullen! You better tell me where you are right now or I swear if Mom calls again, I will castrate you as soon as I see you!" I heard a bang and I just knew she hurled some object at a nearby wall.

I grinned, used to her temper.

"Fine," I said amiably, not saying anything more.

No reply.

I imagined her counting up to 20 and I smirked. When she calmed down, we tried again.

"I know Jasper knows where you are. Tell me."

"I'll be home soon, Alice, and we will talk. Is Jasper with you? Put him on the phone." She protested for another eight seconds before grudgingly giving up.

"You're too hard on her, bro. Don't be cryptic," muttered Jasper.

"Listen, pick me up at the airport, alright? I'll explain later."

He was immediately suspicious. "Just you?"

"I have someone with me and she'll stay with us," I said reluctantly, expecting screaming again from Alice in the background.

"Are you in trouble?" Jasper's voice was lowered and I could tell he was walking, I hoped away from my sister.

"No, it's not like that," I mumbled, a poor attempt at assuring him.

"Two hours, you bastard." And he cut the line.

Taking a deep breath, I returned to where Bella was. She looked nervous again, her fingers fidgeting the lapels of her blue sweater.

Her perturbed expression cleared when she saw me.

I told her about Jasper and that we were staying at the airport for a few more hours.

"Are you alright here? Can I get you food? Do you want to sleep?"

"I slept most of the flight before, remember? I don't want to miss a single minute with you this time."

She tried to say something else but she hesitated, her cheeks flushing pink.

"What is it?" I caressed her cheek.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" She was suddenly alarmed.

I laughed. "Silly girl, if I have one I would have mentioned it. Besides," I said casually, "if I did have one, I would break it off with her within the hour of landing in London."

I sound heartless but that was how it would happen nonetheless.

She looked at me with an unreadable expression. I raised a brow at her.

"You think I'm cruel?" I asked her.

"No, I'm thinking that I am … because I would have done nothing while you break some woman's heart. What kind of human being am I? That I would steal you away just like that?" she mumbled.

"It's my decision to make, Bella. You're blameless," I argued gently.

She looked at me. "You will always do this, don't you? Take all responsibility." But she was smiling when she said that.

I had to think about her statement.

"I care about you," I said simply. "That's my only justification for my every action. I cannot let myself take advantage of you in _any way_."

I knew she realizes the meaning behind my last two words. "I feel the same way, Edward. I want to show you that I care in _every way_," she countered, looking at me steadily.

"You do something to me," I murmured, kissing her forehead. "I hardly recognize myself."

I leaned down to kiss her lips lightly.

"I want this to work," I told her, thinking of her mother. In fact my resolve stemmed from my hope that by being everything to this woman, I would earn her family's trust.

During the time that we were waiting for our ride, I persuaded her to come with me and get ourselves a drink. If she was still a little shocked, I wanted to put sugar in her system.

We cancelled our tickets, paid the fine and then settled in a fairly isolated coffee nook. She ordered chamomile tea and I got black coffee. I talked her into eating some blueberry muffins.

This was where Jasper found us half an hour later. I saw him first but he slowed his walk when he spotted Bella. He arched a brow at me then stared at her. I rolled my eyes and nodded to him.

"Jasper is here, Bella," I said, touching her shoulder and indicating my friend's presence beside her.

She was a bit flustered when she turned and looked up at him. Jasper was a tall guy with corn-colored hair and a long nose. He was almost as tall as me. He smiled a little at her.

"Hi, Bella," he greeted her. He didn't sit down though. We got up and followed him outside. He took Bella's bag, I took her hand.

We talked a bit while walking to the parking area, giving her time to observe my friend. It was the reason why I insisted Jasper to drive out here instead of getting car hire.

Bella was her usual subdued self for most of the trip. I knew she was unnecessarily jittery about meeting my family. As for myself, I felt elated. I couldn't wait for them to meet her, to show her off. Surely they would approve of this child-woman.

* * *

The Cullens' house sits in a sprawling location on the north side of Oak Street suburbs. It was an old 1940s mansion that called to Esme's heart the moment she laid eyes on it.

Mom had lavishly restored the eight-room white Victorian-style Tuscan house which included a backyard of trees and a sculptured fountain. It was a mansion of five bedrooms and three fireplaces. It was also conveniently located since it was near Emmett's college.

When we got out of the car and our bags on the driveway, she blinked and stared.

"Bella?" I took her hand.

She was looking at the old house, slack-jawed. "It's so beautiful."

I laughed.

Alice was home and she greeted us when we walked through the portico.

"Well! This is a surprise!" she said and I rolled my eyes at her.

Alice, like Bella, was also petite, maybe even smaller. As usual she was dressed in some nonpareil fashion style, her short dark mahogany hair spiky. She was not looking at me but at the girl holding my hand as if her life depended on me. I smiled at that. Then I smirked at my sister.

"Alice, this is Bella. Bella, Alice."

Bella extended a formal hand to my sister.

"Hi, Alice," she said softly.

There was no shyness in her stance or voice. I knew I was stupidly smiling, proud of the girl. By the way my sister was gawking at me, I probably looked too smitten. Well, fuck that.

"Hi, Bella! Nice to meet you. How do you know my brother?"

I sighed. Alice was blunt as always but she was smiling at Bella.

"She's my friend," I told her and Jasper before they could say anything else. "And, she's staying with us."

Alice glared at me, knowing I wouldn't give her any more details for now. I threw her a later-don't-be-a-pest look. She gave me another blistering glance but she stood aside to let us in.

Jasper and I carried the luggage inside and put it beside the stairway, off the foyer and living room.

When I turned back, Alice and Bella were carefully assessing each other. "You have a lovely home," she said quietly. Alice nodded, smiling a little.

I frowned slightly, wondering at her reaction to Bella. She was usually friendly and a bit overwhelming when she meets people for the first time.

She was uncharacteristically reserved towards Bella. I glanced at Jasper, who was frowning, also noting Alice's cautious stance.

_What the hell, Alice?_ I willed her to look at me and when she did, I narrowed my eyes at her.

They mumbled little sociable words and then I turned to the stairs, inviting Bella to follow me.

My room was the only bedroom on the third floor. The house was originally two-storey with a larger-than-usual attic. Esme renovated the attic to accommodate a fifth bedroom. My room was actually the second biggest after our parents' suite on the ground floor.

There was a guest room but I didn't even consider depositing her there. I led her upstairs to my room. I opened the door and she went inside, not hesitating at all. It was like she was escaping and my room was her safe haven.

I knew she was really too tired for any more socializing so I insisted that she eat supper quickly and to retire early.

We went down to the spacious kitchen – Alice and Jasper nowhere in sight thankfully – and I prepared a sandwich for her. I accompanied her back to my room when she had finished eating and said goodnight.

Bella turned to me and kissed my stubbly chin. I wasn't having that. I lowered my head and kissed her mouth with a little more passion than I had intended. Several minutes later, gasping, we broke the kiss.

* * *

Alice and Jasper were in the living room. I ignored them and took a glass of water from the kitchen.

When I joined them there, we eyed each other, not speaking.

My sister was staring at me, unblinking, as if she had never seen me before.

"So did you snare that lovely girl?" she said in her sing-song voice. "Too classy for you," she added. For Alice, a "classy" girl was someone prim and proper, even timid.

I chuckled and then I grew quiet, staring at my glass. I knew they were exchanging speculative glances.

"What's the story?"

I looked up at Jasper.

"She ran away from her home. I expect her mother will be here soon." Bella probably used her credit card for airfare. Whoever would be looking for her would know she bought a ticket bound for Chicago.

Shocked gazes fixed on me at once, both of them talking at the same time. I only answered Jasper's query. "What happened? Why did she leave?"

I breathed out heavily. "I will find out the whys soon," I replied.

I told them how and where I met her - skipping over the details of the last 28 hours.

"She sat next to me. She's so lost and dejected. She didn't know me from Adam but she held on to my hand real tight, as if letting go would undo her," I told them, recalling the sadness I felt from her. "I couldn't leave her."

"We should call her family and tell them she's here with us," said Alice.

I hesitated. "I know that's what we should do, but I don't want to force her to do anything she's not ready to do. There's a reason why she left her home. Let her come to terms on her own."

"Still, you know we can't keep her here for an indefinite period," from my sister.

I sighed again. "We will contact her mother only to assure her that she's safe with us but that she will come home when she wants to."

"Are you going to tell her that?" Jasper asked.

"Yes. She's very reasonable if a bit less composed right now." I was about to say that she was ill at ease but I didn't want to start pointing fingers. "But she's not irresponsible," I added, hearing the affection for her in my voice.

My sister puffed air in her inimitable away. "And here you are in love."

I smiled at her sheepishly. "Yeah, well … let's just hope her mother doesn't haul me to jail."

She was being nervy but with my admission, her eyes popped wide. She sat up straighter and shrieked at me. "You're in love with her!"

I automatically raised my eyes to the ceiling, expecting to see Bella standing at the top of the stairs with an accusing look. I glared at Alice.

"Keep your voice down! Damnit!" I raked my hand in my hair.

Alice and Jasper communicated silently. She was looking daggers at him and Jasper was mentally throwing up his arms. I smirked at that. She was somehow blaming her boyfriend for my lovesick predicament.

It was obvious to me that Alice's first reaction to Bella was wariness. I find myself equally wary of her angry stare at Jasper.

"Out with it, Alice. I'm right _here,_" I goaded her.

She transferred her glacial stare to me. But she was silent for a minute or two.

Oh, it was like that, huh? She was punishing me for my taciturn behavior earlier when we talked on the phone. We were both tight-lipped and unforthcoming. We could do this all day.

Jasper cleared his throat.

"Ladies, this is ridiculous. We're going nowhere."

Finally, Alice opened her mouth and implored me to listen to her before I go berserk.

"I'm worried, Edward. Be careful."

That startled me. Then it was annoying.

"What? Do you think she will hurt me? Hurt me physically?"

"No, fool. She could hurt you in a lot of ways and you know it." Alice flared up at me.

Among my family, she was the closest to me and I didn't need confirmation that she was worried about something that she couldn't say - some negative vibe she might have picked up.

And suddenly, I felt deflated. I had been in too much emotional turmoil today. Fuck, since yesterday and I even crossed the fucking Atlantic Ocean with this damnable tempest of emotions – mind, heart, psyche, and let's not forget my enthusiastic libido.

Jasper began to question me the same issues that had been bothering my mind as well. I turned tired eyes on him.

"Do you think she's emotionally vulnerable … I mean how could she trust a stranger so completely?" he asked, frowning. And because he was friend enough to keep my secret for awhile and drove the fucking miles to the airport, I indulged his musings.

"I have been wondering about that too." I didn't tell them about Bella's strange reaction to my touch, that first time on the plane.

"You better call Mom," Alice grumbled, some memory making her snarl at me.

"She called last night and I couldn't tell her anything."

I grimaced at that. "I called Dad," I said in my defense.

Alice rolled her eyes at me.

"It's Mom," she said again and it was explanation enough.

Esme quit her medical practice to devote her time to us. She grew up in Forks, Washington where they used to live as newlyweds. Carlisle interned at Forks' St. Bern Hospital - he wanted the small town experience. He met Esme there while she was new in the shrink business. They got married and when Carlisle received an invitation to work in Chicago, they relocated here. We were all born here.

Esme was the kind of mother that wanted to know everything about her children. She kept regular tabs on all of us. I didn't mind it. As she was devoted to us, so were we to her. With Alice's reticent reactions to Bella, I was reluctant about calling my mother.

"Edward, please be ca -"

I interrupted her, slashing my hand in the air to stop her when she started again.

"Alice, Bella will not hurt me," I almost growled at her.

She shrugged helplessly. "I'm just saying …"

I got up, walked up to her, kissed the top of her head and left the room. I had been away from Bella long enough.

I felt the burning ache in my chest again as I walked up the stairs.


	7. Attachment

**Stephenie Meyer** has the copyright for Twilight the book.

**Chapter7/Attachment**

I had expected to find Bella sleeping on my couch but when I opened the door to my room, both couch and the bed were empty. The bathroom door was slightly ajar.

"Bella," I called softly.

I lightly knocked on the door and pushed it aside. She was standing by the marble counter and looking at something in her palm.

I leaned back against the counter, keeping a comfortable distance, and crossed my arms over my chest.

She looked up slowly, blinking those clear brown eyes.

"Candies," she informed me quietly.

Capsules. I wasn't really surprised that she was taking medications. I didn't ask her for their prescriptions.

She swallowed the drugs with a half glass of water.

Her long chestnut hair was unbound behind her back. I could smell her patented strawberry fragrance. Her nightwear was the same as last night but this time it was all pink.

I reached out a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "How are you?"

She sighed and gave me a tremulous smile. "Your sister seemed nice. So is Jasper," she said.

"Alice is an annoying and tactless little minx. Jasper is not exactly chatty but he's a good chap." I returned her smile with my own bland version.

Bella looked solemn, nodding.

"Ready for bed?" I murmured, stroking her back.

She buried her face on my chest. I knew she was blushing. "To sleep, Bella." I tilted my head slightly, an indulgent smile on my lips.

"Oh," she said, blinking sleepily. My hand was on her arm so I squeezed lightly. I led her back to the room.

If I wanted to, I knew I could wake up her senses and make her forget about sleep.

So what was I waiting for? I should just do what I wanted, get what I wanted, and let the chips fall where they may.

I wanted her.

She wanted me.

I took a deep, resigned breath.

But I loved her too and that made up all the sum of what I felt for her, including the sex I craved with her. I sighed again. She had changed me. It was the only way I could describe this.

"Bed, Bella," I said with soft finality, pushing aside my lust.

She needed as much rest as possible. It had been another long day.

Fuck, has it only been two days? It was less than that due to the time difference. Our time here practically began last night, GMT-based time. It took me less than 24 hours to fall in love with her.

No. I amended my timeframe again. I loved her the moment her brown eyes locked with mine. Less than 10-seconds definitely, the smallest measure of time that had any meaning at all.

I winced at my obsession about how long I loved her or how much time I spent with her. _Fucking geek. _

It was embarrassing how my life now revolved around her, as if I had no purpose or direction before she came into my world.

Bella climbed on the bed. I pulled the comforter over her, tucking her in. She reached up and kissed my rough chin.

"Goodnight, Edward," she mumbled sleepily. I kissed her forehead and left the room.

I had a quick supper alone. Alice and Jasper left the house to eat outside.

I debated calling my mother but decided against it. As I said – long, long day.

Fifteen minutes later I couldn't think of anything else to do so I went to the library, which Mom renovated as the Cullens' "quiet" family room, not just to stack thousands of books.

When we were younger this room was our favorite hiding place and we do our RPGs here. It used to be dark and gloomy, like a medieval dungeon. The previous owners probably thought libraries should be austere places.

After one summer where we all left to vacation to some place I couldn't now remember, Esme removed the creepy horned gargoyles guarding the fireplace, tore down the circular turrets tucked in two corners of the room and built an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.

From torture chamber with monsters, the library was remodeled to every modern homeowner's dream.

I had intended to read and to think but I drifted off to sleep. I woke up two hours later. It was 1am.

My mobile phone was ringing insistently. I glanced at it and groaned. Tanya was calling me. I wondered who told her I was back in Chicago. I thought of ignoring her call but I decided to humor myself.

"Edward! Why aren't you here?" she shrieked excitedly. I could hear music and people in the background.

"Not interested," I told her bluntly.

She laughed. "I've been warned about the return of 'Edward the Irascible'. What happened in London? Too many too soon?" she teased, referring to the female attention I normally receive.

Tanya and I had dated many months ago. She was two years older and had been flirting with me – like a panther circling prey – for years.

She was beautiful, intelligent, and before Bella, the hottest woman I had ever been with.

What we had was not exclusive and when she started dropping hints of maybe changing the status quo, I balked. Since then she had been trying to rile me with references to my being a chick magnet and calling me the "sorriest little woman chaser" under 25.

"Look, Mr. Babe Magnet," she purred, and right on cue too, I thought wryly. I hate that name and she knew it. "Either you come here right now or I'll come and get you."

I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. Pushy Tanya liked it rough and kinky. I wasn't tempted to do anything about it _now_ but I was still male.

"Tanya, baby, I'm very …" I let my tone drip sex. I smirked when I heard her sharp intake of breath. I let her steam for five more seconds before finishing wickedly, "… busy."

Silence.

I think I heard distinct growling. "She's very demanding," I added, my husky inflection highly suggestive.

The music was getting loud in the background. Fifteen seconds.

"Bastard," she sputtered, cutting me off in a hissy. I chuckled to myself, remembering Tanya's bitch fits. Charming.

I sobered when I thought of the girl in my room. I didn't think Bella would even have bitch fits. Not that kind of temper tantrum, I reminded myself.

But she had something else.

Forgetting Tanya and everyone else, I went to my room.

I stood by the bed, amazed to see Bella there, sleeping. She belonged in _my_ bed, I thought fiercely. _My_ room. My _life_. I leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead.

After I showered, I dubiously eyed my boxers, shrugged, and put them on. I normally wear briefs or nothing at all when I sleep. I have pajamas somewhere – Alice insisted I should get those - but I was too tired to search for them.

I carefully slid onto the bed next to Bella and placed my arm around her waist, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. I sighed contentedly, hugging her warm body to me.


	8. Questions

**Stephenie Meyer****'s** Twilight

**a/n**: A little lime in this chapter

**Chapter8/Questions**

Her warm ... No, not just warm … Her _hot_ body was on top of me, her hips writhing directly onto my hard cock, rubbing slowly and deliberately.

I snapped to attention, waking up at once.

I blinked in surprise. Bella _was_ on top of me, her cheeks flushed.

She gave me an enticing smile, looking very innocent, her hair wild around her.

Helpless, unable to stop myself, my burning eyes devoured her pretty breasts. I felt her thighs gripping the sides of my hip. I closed my eyes, stifling a moan.

How could she look _virginal_ when she was straddling my erection?

She moved, nudging my straining hardness.

"Bella," I gasped, opening my eyes. I couldn't fucking breathe. "Err … how was your sleep?" I croaked stupidly. _Fuck Cullen! Get your wits together!_

Her eyes darted down, shamelessly inspecting the bulge that she was sitting on. She gasped when my cock involuntarily quivered. Her blush deepening, she looked back at my face and licked her lips.

"Edward," she whispered. "You're very … bulge-y." She swallowed the last word.

Was I really having this discussion with her?

"Yeah, well. It's been around." Wait, w_hat?_ "What I meant was …" I muttered. "I've been told that." _Great_.

"Have there been many?" she breathed, closing her eyes, torturously grinding her crotch against my dick.

I gripped her slim hips and halted her movements.

"Bella," I begged, not sure what I was pleading her for. To stop. To not stop …

She stilled her grinding but she leaned down and kissed my mouth lightly, moving her closed lips back and forth, her hot breath another torment. She tangled her hands in my hair.

Instinctively, I opened my mouth and pushed my tongue inside, seeking hers. I slid my hands down her back to cup her butt and pressed her down harder on my cock. She whimpered, angling her head sideways to let my tongue explore the deeper recesses of her sweet mouth.

I reversed our positions. I flipped her body so she was under me and I pushed her thighs apart with my knee, firmly nestling my bulge between her legs.

She was breathing too fast now, as aroused as I was. I started moving, sliding my erection up and down the wet apex of her spread thighs. She arched her back and wound her arms around my neck, fusing her mouth with mine.

She gasped, breaking for air. I slid my mouth down to her neck, nuzzling, and moved lower, my lips capturing a covered nipple and sucking hard.

She moaned. I could feel the heat of the soaked V of her pajamas, smell her intoxicating arousal. She let go of my hair and fumbled with her shirt, trying to lift it up.

I brushed her hands aside and pushed up her t-shirt myself, baring her fucking perfect tits. I gulped, trying to calm my breathing. She was so beautiful. I let my finger trace the curve of one breast.

I shifted my gaze and looked directly in her glittering brown eyes. We stared fixedly at each other, my palm enveloping the whole mound, squeezing.

"Mine, Bella," I said hoarsely. When she stayed mute, watching me with mad fascination, I growled. "Do you understand me?"

She nodded quickly, biting hard on her bottom lip. I realized at this moment, that I could ask her to do anything for me, to me.

For several seconds, I stared at her. My smile was possessive.

Yes, mine. And that was the only reason why I let go.

With Herculean effort, I removed my hand from her skin, giving her tits one last hungry glance and gently pulled down her t-shirt. She didn't protest, still eyeing me with rapt avidity, her lips slightly open.

I straightened up and rigidly stood beside the bed, gazing down at her.

Finally, I leaned down and kissed her.

"I'll get you breakfast," I murmured.

I left the room. Fleeing was more like it, I thought with a shake of my head.

I took a few steps down the hall and stopped, raking my hand in my tousled hair.

I tried to calm my raging hormones, forcing my breathing to normalize and my erection to subside. Smirking to myself, I continued to walk downstairs.

I could hear Mrs. Cope, our day housekeeper, in the kitchen. Must be Monday? I changed path and entered the laundry room, snagging a clean gray sweatpants and putting it on.

I leaned my back against the wall for a moment and closed my eyes.

I didn't know how I stopped myself from making love to Bella. Stopping wasn't my intention at all I was a goner, completely on automatic hormonal drive.

I was struck by an unbelievable Cro-Magnon possessive streak. It wasn't even because she owned the most fucking gorgeous bosoms in the entire planet, which was something to be assumed, but she had the most devoted expression on her face when I touched her, like I was her god or something.

And I wanted it. All of it damnit! Her worship. Her passion. Her loyalty. Even her obsession.

I clenched my teeth hard.

I wanted her to love me back.

I moved away from the wall and deep in thought, I walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning, dearie!" Mrs. Cope enthused, spotting me hovering in her domain.

She skipped to my side and gave me a hearty embrace. I smiled affectionately at her.

"Why Mrs. Cope, I swear I didn't recognize you. Did you change your hair color again?" I teased her.

She was originally a brunette but through the years she had dyed her hair at least four different colors. Today, her hair was a silvery blonde.

"Oooh, you noticed my new hair? I knew you would." She pinched my cheek and went back to her cooking.

Mrs. Cope, like Esme, grew up in Forks. She and her husband used to own a small bed and breakfast in Port Angeles but when Ronald Cope passed away, Mom offered her work as housekeeper-slash-Alice's-guardian. She agreed and she relocated to Chicago.

I moved about setting a brunch tray of sausage, buttered toast and scrambled eggs with bits of green and red veggies for Bella.

Mrs. Cope made me a large ham and cheese sandwich which I finished quickly. She set a plate of butter pancakes in front of me and I devoured that too in less than three minutes. I was pouring warm milk in a mug when I heard Emmett's booming voice.

"Hey! Lover boy!" Emmett punched my arm – which was fucking painful considering he was a giant oaf - his thick eyebrows wiggling suggestively at me. I smirked at him, knowing Alice had briefed him about the household current events.

"Yeah, and you won't meet her until this afternoon so stay away from my floor," I said.

Emmett walked over to Mrs. Cope, playfully ruffled her apron and popped half a dozen bacon strips in his mouth. "Whatever. Rosalie's here so be warned."

I groaned inwardly. His girlfriend would not make things easier today. I needed Bella to be comfortable around my family and Rosalie was legendary for her scathing and insolent manner.

"And we're still leaving in three weeks. No excuses!" he called after me when I left the kitchen. I ignored him.

* * *

Bella was sitting cross-legged on the bed. I also noticed that she had put on a bra. She gave me a tentative, shy smile.

"Brunch in bed, Ms. Swan," I said with flourish, carefully placing the tray in front of her. She squeezed my hand and murmured her thanks.

"Where's your food?" she asked while slicing her sausage and scrambled eggs. I told her I had finished and sat cross-legged like her, in bed.

I watched her eat for several seconds.

"Do you mind if we talk for a bit, while you eat?" I asked her softly.

She nodded. Her posture was relaxed and she seemed willing enough.

"In the hotel, you said you stayed in a clinic for awhile. How long were you there?"

I hadn't realized I was holding my breath and I let it out with a deep exhale.

Bella's forehead creased but I didn't detect any tension in her. She was merely choosing words to answer my question. I waited patiently.

"I stayed three months," she said quietly, not looking at me.

"Was this in London?"

She nodded, chewing her buttered toast slowly.

"Why were you in London to begin with?" I prompted her gently.

"It's as far as I could be from my mother," she said, shrugging, masking her confusion. "I never asked her why she brought me to London to be 'cured'. I suspect it's because my father's sister – maybe the only one who can understand me – was already in England. She dumped me there," she added without any emotion.

She told me she had been living with her aunt for the past two years. She was a little vague on what brought on her confinement seven months ago. But while in London, she lived like a recluse.

She had been home-schooled. On her second year in the country, she was befriended by the daughter of their neighbor, Angela.

"She's the Angela you talked to last night," I said and she confirmed that.

"Is this the first time you were in a clinic?" I asked next, closely watching for any changes in her mood and expression.

"No," she said quietly. "In Boston, when I was 10. I was born there."

She stopped eating. It was eight years ago when she first displayed what she called manic-depressive moods.

"What was the established diagnosis, Bella?" I forced myself to ask her this. No use delaying the inevitable.

She stared at her food.

"What did they tell you? Did they say you were bipolar?" I asked, quietly insistent.

"No," she said faintly. I stared at her in disbelief. Not bipolar? What did she mean by "No"? This was not just manic or depressive episodes?

I felt my blood freezing.

"I … I can't," she said under her breath, but I heard her. She couldn't or wouldn't tell me. What was she hiding? I reviewed the last 38 hours. What I had seen so far of her behavior seemed to be related to a neurosis. Weren't they?

I leaned in, reaching out a hand slowly so as not to startle her, and I tenderly touched her pale face with my fingers. She sighed.

"That first time … when I got out, my mother has already moved to Miami," she said, this time volunteering information. "I think my doctor advised her that moving me to a new place might not be a good idea. So Renee moved back to Boston. We stayed there until two years ago."

I continued to caress her face, a silent encouragement.

"Why did you leave London?" I asked.

She worriedly chewed her bottom lip. I placed my hand on her mouth to stop her from hurting herself. This did not appear to be what she wanted to hear. She didn't answer my question.

"Do you have relatives here?" She shook her head this time. "Did Angela tell you that your mother was in London?"

"Y-yes," she said nervously.

After several silent seconds, Bella stole a glance at me. I had a deceptively bland expression on my face, but I gave her my crooked smile. I noticed that she stopped consuming her food.

"I ruined your appetite," I said, apologetic.

She eyed her brunch and smiled a little. I sliced a piece of the sausage and offered a small bite-size to her. She opened her mouth and accepted my gesture of apology. Quietly, she resumed her eating. I watched her, my manner impassive.

There were a dozen thoughts flitting across my brain – worry, rationalization, panic, sympathy, theories, duty, need for caution, my conviction of my love for her …

I had thought … _hoped_ that what she had was simple bipolar disorder. I wasn't implying it was a _simple _matter to be bipolar, but anything more serious than that was simply mind-numbing. She had the symptoms of the disorder.

She was intensely emotional one second and then overexcited in the next. Of course I had known her for such a short time and I wouldn't know about the kind of mood episodes she have, and had in the past. But … ah hell.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I closed my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. I deliberately emptied my head of warring thoughts.

I remember reading in one of Alice's new age books about light visualization. I felt like a moron but fucking why not? It was a quickie meditative trick of sorts to temporarily stop the verbal internal dialogue. So ... hmm ... picturing a fucking peaceful ...

No. I mentally shook myself. I imagined we were in a peaceful green meadow with lush trees surrounding it in a circle. I envisioned Bella and I, lying on our backs in the middle of the meadow, holding hands and our heads close together. Our faces turned towards the blue, blue skies. There were birds singing too.

I felt my blood pulse slowing, calming my nerves.

When I opened my eyes, Bella was gazing at me with a soft expression on her face, her eyes misty and glowing.

"I will get better, Edward," she whispered, sensing my concern.

Her gaze was steady on my face.

"I will get better for you," she said firmly, lifting her chin. Tears flowed down her cheeks.

I removed the tray of food in front of her and placed it on the floor. I leaned forward, my eyes burning with intensity. I linked our hands, hers were trembling.

"You will not be alone, Bella."

She flung her arms around my neck. I lifted her onto my lap and she sat a-straddle. I stretched my legs under her and I rocked her back and forth, trying to soothe her, my hands stroking up and down her back.

I murmured sweet nothings to her, just letting her absorb my voice. It seemed to have a comforting effect on her.

She delicately cleared her throat and turned her head to look at me, her liquid brown eyes alleviating my own worries.

She didn't speak but her eyes drifted to my forehead, my eyes, my nose and my mouth. I felt her caressing appraisal deep in my bones.

She slowly curved her lips in a smile, hugging her body even closer to me.

"I want you to know something, Edward," she said softly.

I kissed her nose, encouraging her to go on.

"When I … when we do it-" She stopped. "When we make love _finally ..." S_he arched a delicate eyebrow at me. "I want you to know that I will do it because I want you, Edward. I really, really want you."

I seemed to have stopped breathing. I thought she was the dispirited one but here she was, giving my often-indifferent, listless life, _life. _I felt humbled.

I leaned down until our foreheads were touching.

"You have all of me, Bella."


	9. Want

**Stephenie Meyer** wrote Twilight, the book.

**------------**

**Chapter9/Want**

**------------**

We stayed in my room for sometime. She was silent but it was a comfortable silence.

We were too choked up with emotions and both standing precariously on some emotional, psychological version of a dangerous sheer cliff.

Eventually, we backed off and mentally walked away from the unseen precipice. I forced myself to stay in the present.

When we were both ready, showered and refreshed, I carried her tray outside and we left our sanctuary together.

------------

At the landing of the staircase, I stared at Bella for a moment.

She looked demure and very feminine. She was wearing a casual just-above-the-knees sundress. I liked how the dark blue prints make her pale skin glow. She had her long chestnut hair tied in a lose knot behind her head.

I had been staring at her for several seconds when I noticed her pink face. She looked down at her dress and she frowned.

"Should I change?" she whispered uncertainly.

I decided then and there that I would never understand women. How could she not know that she was beautiful no matter how she was clothed? I found her lack of vanity extraordinarily adorable.

I leaned down and kissed her blushing cheek.

"You look like you, Bella," I murmured. Pretty and mine, I smiled to myself.

There were voices coming from the kitchen. It was past lunchtime so I led Bella there.

Mrs. Cope emerged from the doorway on our way in.

Her cheerful blue eyes zeroed in on the girl at once.

"Oh! You must be Bella! Edward, bring her in here. How are you, dearie? Are you British? I hope you like Italian food. Do you? Emmett said to make Cajun chicken pasta for dinner. What do you like, I will make it now … Oh, I hope you like pasta …"

I grinned at her. We were all used to Mrs. Cope's harmless and amusing mother-hen prattle.

Emmett was standing beside the kitchen counter, quietly observing our guest. I nodded to him.

My whole attention was on Bella and her reaction to the housekeeper.

She was looking a little dazed, a small dreamy smile on her lips, as if she wanted to hug the rotund Mrs. Cope.

"Do you like Cajun chicken pasta, Bella?" Emmett spoke first.

Her eyes shifted to my brother, her smile still in place.

"I … it's spicy with mushrooms?" she said faintly, blushing. "With basil and cr-cream …"

Emmett blinked many times. A silly look was on his face. I arched my brow at him. He blinked like an owl at me and then he snapped out of it.

"Bella, I'm Emmett. This lout's big bro." He approached her as if he was about to embrace her but I glared at him. He snickered at me and bent down, pecking her lightly on the cheek.

I put my arms around her waist and pulled her close to me, her back to my chest.

I silently communicated with Emmett above Bella's head.

_So, you still have a thing for petite girls, huh? Thought that lofty girlfriend of yours changed all that?_

_And when did you start getting too possessive, pretty boy? _

I saw Mrs. Cope's head whipping back and forth between my brother and me like a pendulum.

_You two stop your bickering right now. Rosalie's coming_.

I smirked at the imagined censure from the housekeeper. Then my eyes widened when I heard the tap-tapping of high heels.

"Emmett's girlfriend, Rosalie. She's also Jasper's sister," I murmured close to her ear.

I slowly turned her so she was facing the kitchen entrance, just in time for her appearance.

Rosalie's height was 5'9 and with her calf-high boots three-inch stilettos, she was as tall as me. She nodded her blonde head haughtily at me, immediately noting my possessive arms around Bella.

"This yours?" She smiled archly, glancing meaningfully at Bella, almost like a dare.

At 20, she had perfected her cat-like stare and her sharp tongue as intimidation tactics. The only persons immune to her biting humor were the Cullens and of course, her brother.

But even Mrs. Cope's non-stop chatter ceased in the presence of the snooty Rosalie.

Bella stiffened and I squeezed her lightly.

"Bella, Rosalie. Rosalie, Bella," I said simply.

The women eyed each other.

Emmett must have moved because Rosalie's frosty eyes flashed to him. Her narrowed cold eyes made me groan inwardly.

_Fucking idiot! Emmett stop wearing that smitten look! _Obviously, Rosalie read the situation correctly.

I really didn't think my brother was falling in love with Bella, only enamored by her petite size. I sincerely hope this was not an infatuation. Emmett – for reasons I didn't care to know and I suspect because he was really a bonehead – loved Rosalie and she, him. Again, a mystery there.

"Emmett," his girlfriend drawled, her lips tightening at the corners. "Join me in your room? I want to show you something."

She took one last squint at Bella and left, her stilettos a fading ominous sound.

My brother grumbled a comment to Mrs. Cope and followed Rosalie out. With an encouraging smile at Bella, she too left the kitchen.

Bella took a few deep breaths and turned to face me, her tiny hands resting on my chest. Slowly, she tipped her face up. "I think that didn't go well." Her lips quirked.

I let out a relieved sigh. She was fine, she could handle Rosalie.

"It's not that bad."

She giggled. "You think?"

I leaned down and kissed her. I stopped only when I heard Mrs. Cope moving about in the hallway outside the kitchen.

I took Bella's hand and we wandered into the smaller living room, which was directly facing the back gardens. I led her to a two-seater and sat her down.

She curled her legs underneath her and leaned on my side, her arms circling my waist. I placed my hand on her bare knee and caressed her skin absently. We stayed this way for awhile.

------------

She asked me about Alice and Emmett.

To make her laugh, I regaled her with funny stories about Emmett because my brother was a fucking natural-born comedian really, always acting like a buffoon.

Alice as a child was terribly hyperactive and because she was the only girl, she grew up a little spoiled. My parents doted on her and well, so did Emmett and me. We were all protective of her.

I told Bella about school and where I intend to go but I wasn't very detailed about it since I had not decided what to do yet.

I slouched deeper onto the sofa. We talked about London. She had very little to contribute and it occurred to me that she probably stayed home or indoors most of the time.

She lived a fairly isolated life. I was grateful for this Angela for befriending her, for bypassing Bella's natural shyness.

She didn't ask me about Rosalie or Jasper.

After an hour of talking, interrupted only with soft kisses, I felt her yawning. I gave her an easy grin and her breath caught.

"Bored with me?" I teased her, my hand on her knee gliding up her leg, toward the edge of her dress.

She turned her face up to me and looked at me seriously. "The question is, are you? With me?" Her expression was so solemn I couldn't help but show her that _that_ would never happen. I restrained myself from kissing her too passionately. I could feel that she was getting tired.

I took her hand and we got up from the sofa. We walked slowly up the stairs and back to my room. The sun was low in the sky. It was late afternoon.

Bella sat on the bed and yawned again, her small hand covering her mouth. "Do you want to sleep too?" Her speech was slurred.

I shook my head. I helped her get comfortable in the bed.

"Are you leaving?" she asked sleepily.

"No, Bella. I'll be right here." I sat on the bed and I just watched her until she fell asleep. I leaned forward and brushed my lips lightly against hers.

------------

I left the room and went to my father's study.

This was the smallest room in the house but it was also the most private.

This room used to be locked all the time but whenever all three of us were here we wanted it accessible. Not sure why.

Perhaps because we wanted some connection with our parents even if only through my father's study.

I mentally prepared myself for what I was about to do.

It was time to call Esme, my mother, the psychiatrist.

She picked up the phone after just one ring although it was almost midnight in London. In fact she interrupted that one tiny ring mid-way.

"Edward?" was the first thing she said, not hesitating at all.

I cleared my throat.

"Mom."

"Where have you been, honey?"

"I met someone. Alice didn't tell you?"

"She told me very little." Her tone was reassuring, supportive.

I told her how I met Bella but I was ambivalent about disclosing her clinical condition. I really didn't know where to begin. My mother sensed my conflicted emotions.

"What is it, honey?"

"I'm not sure yet, Mom. I don't want to draw conclusions. Everything is so new," I said with great feeling.

She said nothing for about 10 whole seconds.

"Edward, you will tell me when you're ready. You know I trust you."

"I know."

"And I _trust _you to call me if at some point you think you need … my help," she said, wavering on the last two words.

"I will," I replied quietly.

She asked me about my plans for college, which I smoothly evaded, and I told her about Emmett's amusing little infatuation with Bella.

We said goodbye on a positive note and we both hanged up. I took a deep breath.

Talking to Esme always leave me feeling better. She was a very effective psychotherapist.

I wandered over to the window and looked out. I noticed that Emmett's Hummer was not in the driveway. I had a text message from Alice this morning that she and Jasper would be out all night too.

Bella and I were alone in the house. I felt a rush of longing for her suddenly.

I left my father's study and went back to my room.


	10. Need

Still **Stephenie Meyer's**

**a/n**: Not to lecture but I'm a bit OCD :) so this is just a bit of explanation. Earlier I said the M-rating is for language and suicide content, and also for lime/lemons. Lemon means the fic will feature explicit sex scenes. Lime denotes a fic has sexual themes but is not necessarily explicit. For this fic, I'd say the story is "citrusy" which means it has both lemon and lime. After this chapter I'm not putting up the lemon/lime notice again since it's going to be pretty much repetitive. Thank you ... to continue ...

**Chapter10/Need**

My heart beating fast, I slowly opened the bedroom door.

The sun had set and the room was in shadows. I could still see her outline lying on the center of the bed.

Bella was sleeping on her stomach, like a child. But she was no child. My breathing quickened.

The sheets no longer covered her, kicked haphazardly at the bottom of the bed. Her dress had ridden up high on her thighs.

I slowly approached the bed, mesmerized by the sight of her sleeping form.

What would it be like to make love to this woman? And I knew, deep in my bones, that it would be different.

I need to have her.

I uttered an involuntary sound for she stirred, waking up. She shifted on her back, her legs bending and she stretched, back arching.

I stood motionless, my cock rock-hard. My eyes never leaving her face.

She became aware of my presence and she slowly turned her head towards me.

I tried to open my mouth, to say something to her. All I could give her was the sound of my harsh breathing. I shuddered.

_Fucking breathe, Cullen_.

I stared at her, my mouth dry. I licked my lips. I had no more strength to fight this and _fuck it all_, I _love_ her.

Bella, like a siren rising from the sea, slowly sat up. She did the one thing that would snap me out of my lustful stupor. She looked up at me and whispered one small word.

"Please ..."

I took a step forward and she met me half way.

She reached up, grabbed my hair in her tight fists and sealed her mouth to mine, our tongues mated. I grabbed her behind and pulled her body impossibly closer, both of us tilting our heads to have better access while I plumbed her mouth deeper.

She ripped her mouth from mine, gasping, and dragged her lips lower, licking the base of my neck.

My hands trembling, I lifted the hem of her dress but her bodice was too tight around her breasts. All I could think of was that I had to get my hands on her or I would go fucking mad.

I found the zipper at the back of her dress and tugged it down.

I guided her to the edge of the bed until she was sitting down, her legs spread, feet on the floor. I knelt down between her thighs, my arms around her waist and swooped down, taking her bra-covered nipple in my mouth. I heard a growling animal-like sound and realized it was me.

Her bra was so thin and lacy it added more friction for her. She moaned and arched her back, giving more of herself.

I unhooked her bra and slid the straps down her shoulders, licking the tops of her breasts. I slowly removed the lacy cotton and just stared at her. I took a moment to feast on her pale tits and their roundness made my dick throb painfully.

I fondled and squeezed one breast and licked, laved and bit the nipple of the other one. She cried out, emitting those fucking sexy breathy sounds. I suckled her tits for a long time, not missing an inch of skin.

Bella leaned back, and I stopped, watching her with hot eyes. Her chest was heaving.

"Do you really want this, Bella?" I said slowly, huskily. I could barely say the words.

She didn't speak but leaned closer and brushed her lips sweetly against mine. She took my hand and placed it between her breasts. That was all I needed.

I slowly removed her dress, leaving her panties on. I straightened up and in seconds I was naked before her.

I stood motionless, and I felt the heat of her gaze. Has she seen a naked male before? I stood straighter and clenched my fists, wanting to stroke my cock for her, to show her just how much more aroused I could be, all for her.

She stared up at me, her dilated eyes shining, and slowly dipped her head. She was looking at my erection. She swallowed, her fingers raking her thighs.

She had a shocked expression on her face and for a moment, she looked fearful.

I continued to tower over her, striving for patience. I was so fucking hard my knuckles had gone white from clenching too tight.

She tipped her head back, looking up at me in wonder. I released a relieved sigh.

"W-will it hurt?" she whispered.

I touched her face, gently caressing her cheek. "Yes." I couldn't lie to her. "But I could make it less painful."

I pulled her up until she was standing in front of me, my hand palming her breast. I could feel her frantically beating heart. "I promise you, Bella. I will not hurt you intentionally."

She slowly nodded and licked her lips. I leaned down and licked them for her. I could do it more thoroughly.

She reached up and hugged my neck. The shock was gone, replaced by a primal need to possess and be possessed.

I lifted her up and carried her to bed. I lay on top of her, careful not to crush her. I captured her lips again and kissed her deeply. I felt pain in my chest. I wanted this woman so fucking bad.

I nudged her knees apart and settled between her legs, my hardness poking her belly. My mouth still fused with hers, I caressed and fondled every line and curve. She arched her back and plunged her small hands in my hair, panting.

My mouth followed the fiery path of my hands, my attention lingering on her perfect pink-tipped breasts. I couldn't get enough of her tits.

I nibbled and pulled, smoothening my tongue all around her areola, my thumb and forefinger rolling her nipple in between. Bella's gasping was becoming more erratic. I suckled harder.

She pushed her hips against me; her movement inadvertently aligning my cock with her female flesh. I licked my way back up to her earlobe. I bit the tiny skin.

"Your nipples," I groaned, breathing hard. "I could suck them all night."

She moaned. I barely stopped myself from pulling the crotch of her panties aside and thrusting fast and deep inside her.

"Do you know what else I'd like to taste?" I breathed into her ear. She shook her head once.

I cupped a hand on her. She gasped, her fingers dug onto my shoulders.

I slipped my big index finger inside her soaked panties and touched her. She inhaled sharply and instinctively opened her legs wider. I groaned again. I inserted another finger and rubbed her swollen skin.

I licked my way from the tip of one breast to her neck, and completed the trail by flicking the back of her dainty ear. I whispered to her what I would do next. She jerked and moaned a little louder.

I slid down her body, slipped off her panties, and proceeded to do just that.

I wrapped my arm around her hip, lifted her to me and buried my face between her legs. She choked off a scream. She grabbed my hair and pulled.

I stroked and sucked her little nub for all I was worth. She tasted so fucking sweet. My tongue slowly traced her opening three times, five times. I hummed when I dipped my tongue inside, inserting as deep as I could. I licked her from her opening to her clit. Repeatedly.

I tightened my arm around her hip and lifted her higher, diving. And I didn't stop until I felt her flesh pulsing, her legs shaking. Still, I didn't stop what I was doing. I couldn't. I wanted to lick her dry.

I rubbed and tugged until I felt her muscles clenching again. I straightened up, fumbled in the drawer of the bedside table and took out a condom. I tore the package, slipped it on my cock and spread her legs even wider.

"Bella, look at me," I growled.

For the first time at least, I wanted her eyes on me when I thrust inside her. She opened her heavy-lidded eyes and looked at me.

"Put your legs around my waist," I said hoarsely. I gripped her hips, willing her to yield to me. And fucking-so-slowly-I-almost-died, I entered her.

Bella made a little sound and I stopped, my teeth clenching hard. She was so unbelievably _tight_. I pushed forward, stretching her narrow entrance.

"Oh god -" I blurted out. I strove for coherence. "Are you alright?"

She bit her bottom lip and nodded. I saw a tear roll down her cheek. Gently, humbled, I wiped it away.

"Do you want me to stop?" I grunted. She shook her head and shifted her hips a little. I grunted.

"Bella -" I pulled out half way and shoved, going deeper. She cried out, her legs tightened around me. "I need to move," I gasped.

She nodded jerkily. I shoved and she moved beneath me. I gritted my teeth hard and pulled out slowly, her flesh squeezing my cock so fucking tight. I pressed back in filling her.

I could feel my arms straining with the effort not to pump in and out like I was fucking dying to do. I leaned down and tongued her nipple. She arched her back, taking more of me inside her.

She was keening and I reared up, watching her face. She was ready to come.

I slid my hand between us and rubbed her. It did not take long. Her entire body shook and she stiffened, her back curving, and a soundless scream on her lips.

I stared at her beautiful face as she orgasmed, awed. And while I was watching her come, her most intimate muscles clenching around my cock, I exploded so powerfully I almost blacked out.

* * *

My next conscious thought was that I was crushing Bella. I slid to the side and looked at her.

Blushing madly, she was regarding me with large, shining eyes. She opened her mouth but no words came out. She was unable to speak yet but I couldn't _think_.

I did the only thing I was capable of still doing. I pulled her to me and hugged her tight.

There would be time for words later.


	11. Need Part2

The book Twilight is the property of **Stephenie Meyer**.

**Billy Corgan of Smashing Pumpkins** wrote the words to "Stand Inside Your Love".

**Chapter11/Need Part2**

She was the most beautiful sight to wake up to.

Bella, her dark hair a wavy mass down her back, was kneeling on the end of my bed, her heels resting under her. She was hugging my pillow to her bosom and looking out the window across the room.

Her face was so stunningly radiant, she was my Circe again. My eyes absorbed all of her.

It was one of those moments when I wished I could remember one fucking line from one fucking poem. All I could think of was that she was beautiful in form and feature, lovely as the day. And even these words were too lame.

I shuddered, feeling the familiar warm-glow on my skin and the quickening of my pulse. It was somehow different. It was more. I felt reborn in my mind.

My eyes traveled lower her body and everything that I did to her the night before came rushing back to me. I indulged in the primal pride that I was her first. I felt a powerful, searing need to claim her over and over again.

I raked my hand in my hair - a signal to her that I was awake. She smiled a little but did not look at me.

I sat up and went to her. I put my arms around her waist and pulled her to me, her back to my chest. She shifted and sat cross-legged so I could tuck her inside my embrace.

I breathe in her scent. She was so fucking feminine. If I had dreamed of someone, if I even imagined of having someone, it would be her.

I was beginning to know how it was to love to distraction. If I could only hold her and not fucking let go; to bind her heart and her mind to me.

I didn't know how she felt about me or if she could love. But she would love me, I thought fiercely, pushing aside doubts about our future. Like a mantra, I kept telling myself that I was the one for her.

Bella made a small movement and I was hard immediately. I pulled her thick hair to the side and kissed the back of her neck, my scruffy jaw grazing her soft skin. She shivered. I licked her nape and behind her ear, blowing hot breath. I slid my open mouth to the base of her neck, to her collarbone, and nipped her shoulder.

Her skin spotted with goose bumps. I retraced my trail of kisses three times and when I reached her ear again, I bit her earlobe. She moaned. My erection, trapped between our bodies, quivered.

I gently pried the pillow from her hands. My rough chin on her shoulder, I inhaled deeply. I was fucking getting addicted to her taste and her smell. I glided my big hands down her arms, to her flat belly, her thighs, and stopped when I reached her knees. I skimmed my hands back to her thighs and I lightly kneaded the soft skin of her inner legs. Her hands to her sides fisted and her breathing was faster now, matching my own. I dropped my eyes to her heaving breasts, my mouth suddenly dry. They were so fucking beautiful.

I struggled to contain my natural inclination to make this one hell of a bang on. Nothing like a morning quickie.

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the prickling tension at the back of my neck. It was the only sign that I was dangerously close to losing it.

But this was my Bella. She was everything that I wanted and asked for.

I cupped her knees and coaxed her legs to uncross. I bent her knees and gently parted her thighs. My questing fingers were moving in an ever slow progress to her center.

Bella smothered a moan, her teeth biting her bottom lip. My index finger twitched near her entrance, touching moisture. Her moan escaped this time. I almost chuckled but my cock was so fucking hard it hurt.

She suddenly turned her head to look up at me with glazed eyes. She was pleading for me to do it. For that _look_ I was willing to bleed for her.

I kept her eyes on me when I moved the tips of my index and middle fingers to glide slowly around her swollen flesh. She inhaled sharply. I rubbed in a slow, rhythmic circle. She squirmed, closing her eyes and making those breathy whispers that I so fucking love. But I stopped abruptly, willing her eyes to open.

I reclaimed her moist clit as soon as she looked up. She parted her lips and almost closed her eyes again. I pressed my hand harder and stroked my two fingers down to her slippery slit and penetrated.

Her eyes widened and her hips involuntarily moved in a most natural way. I placed my left hand under her butt and raised her, tucking my knees under hers.

She was panting now, her thighs starting to shake. I doubled the tempo of my stroking.

Brown eyes, shining with an impending climax, stared intently into my green.

I lazily gave her my crooked smile as my two fingers went deeper, turned, and curled up hitting her most sensitive spot. She cried out, her body shaking. I tapped the spongy hot button on the roof of her sheath repeatedly, pressing hard. She jerked, moaning, and came again.

She collapsed against me, my hand filling with her juice. I licked it off my fingers.

I gently lowered her and kissed the top of her head. I waited for her to calm down.

Neither of us had spoken one word since waking up. We didn't need to.

When I was satisfied that her pulse had somewhat normalized, I carried her to the bathroom.

I deposited her under the shower and lathered her body with a sponge. I turned her so I could start with her smooth back.

I rubbed the sponge slowly down her back and kneeling, I scrubbed the back of her thighs, calves and her tiny feet. I turned her around, still kneeling, and stared for a moment at her wet crotch. I just tasted that sweet flesh of hers and I wanted to do it again. And again. And again. I licked my lips.

With determination, I scrubbed the inside of her smooth thighs, then her stomach, moving up to her arms and shoulders but avoiding her chest area. I was saving the two best things for last.

Her upper body done, I looked down at the most holy of holies. I squeezed the sponge and I watched as the suds ran over her pink, perky nipples. I ditched the sponge and used my large hands to clean and wash her soft, resilient mounds. I took my time fondling and smoothing my palms over her supple skin.

And because I couldn't help it, I went down on one knee and captured a nipple in my mouth while rolling its twin between thumb and forefinger. The tip of my tongue circled her areola and glided over her puckered nipple. I firmed my tongue and flicked back and forth.

Bella threw back her head and let out breathy gasps. I gripped her ribcage and suckled voraciously. I didn't think I was ever going to stop until I had sucked her skin raw. She was breathing hard, mouth half-parted.

I stood up finally. With a small smile, she picked up the sponge, lathered it and looked up with smoky brown eyes. I was motionless. My fucking lungs had stopped functioning.

She started on my shoulders, scrubbing slowly and down my long arms. She washed each of my fingers. She turned her attention to my chest, tracing every bump of toned muscle.

I tried to remain as still as possible. I realized this was the first time that she had touched my body. We had sex but she had not really _touched_ me. I held my breath, fucking commanding my dick not to embarrass ourselves.

She was now kneeling in front of me, her eyes fucking glued to me. My arms rigid to my sides, I clenched my fists tighter. She ran the sponge to my thighs, her fingers following a path of sinewy muscle. I took a deep, deep breath.

She suddenly dropped the sponge and I watched, hypnotized, as her small soapy hands grasped my erection. When her little pinky flicked against the enlarged head, I fucking died.

I stooped down, grabbed her arm, turned off the shower and almost dragged her out of the shower stall.

I sat her against the marble counter, sliding her butt on the edge. I grabbed her legs and pulled up her knees, my fingers digging onto her skin. I hungrily mated with her tongue while I blindly reached out a hand where I knew I would find my condom, rolled it onto my cock, spread-eagled her legs and entered her with one deep solid thrust.

A guttural sound ripped from my chest. I soon got a hard pounding rhythm going. I combined shallow crafty thrusts to sweep past her hot spot and deeper thrusts just because I fucking love to hear her scream.

And scream she did. My teeth clamped down hard on her neck as I spasmed violently inside her.

When my orgiastic haze cleared, I froze.

Fuck.

I was rough.

I slowly slipped out of her and she gasped. I winced when I saw the beginning bruises on her pale skin.

"I hurt you."

It was the first fucking three words I spoke in three hours.

Bella smiled weakly.

I brushed her soaked hair away from her flushed face. Her body was still trembling.

"You're amazing," I told her with absolute sincerity. "Beyond everything I've ever expected."

I leaned forward and kissed her lips. I still couldn't fucking remember a poem but I knew a song.

"You and me," I murmured.

"Immutable," I hummed.

"Impossible."

"Pure lunacy."

"Incalculable."

"Inseparable."

I punctuated each word with kisses to the base of her neck, her nipples, her belly and her thighs.

She was giggling by the time I got to her knees.

"What are the words for my knees?" she asked coyly.

"Mine_,"_ I said softly, all teasing gone.

Bella's stare was intense. And I knew, deep in my bones, that she reciprocates my feelings for her. If she was not yet aware of it then it really didn't matter. I could wait.

She was still sitting on the counter so I gently helped her down. She wobbled on her feet and I grinned at that, fucking smug. I kissed the top of her head.

Her stomach suddenly growled and she blushed. I laughed, took her small hand and licked her middle finger. She missed supper last night and now she was late for breakfast.

I shook my head at myself. Some boyfriend I was turning out to be. I smiled at the thought.

* * *

*****a/n**

"Beautiful in form and feature, lovely as the day, can there be so fair a creature formed of common clay?" - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.


	12. Echo

Twilight's **Stephenie Meyer's.**

**Chapter12/Echo**

Only Mrs. Cope was in the kitchen when we finally came down for breakfast.

She hovered around Bella and despite her protests, she insisted on preparing her food.

Mrs. Cope served a rather large breakfast of meat and eggs for her, clucking about her "too slim" figure.

I playfully eyed Bella's gorgeous tits with a licentious grin. Her face flamed.

"Do you want to go out today?" I asked her. She had one day of rest after all.

She smiled and shook her head. Her eyes followed Mrs. Cope who was busy chopping greens and stalks. She seemed intrigued with the friendly woman. Perhaps she missed her mother?

"She grows on you," I whispered to her, inclining my head at our housekeeper.

"I like her," she whispered back shyly.

I felt a little ache in my chest, wondering what her life was like.

She never mentioned brothers or sisters so I assumed she had no siblings. Her father died when she was very young and she had been living with her aunt for the past two years. I suspect her aunt had no children.

Was she completely alone, growing up? Isolated from everyone all her life? I thought of what she had missed and possibly, continue to miss.

After we finished eating, we lingered in the kitchen, listening to Mrs. Cope's neighborhood updates.

Alice – who hadn't been subjected to a curfew since she turned 17 - came home only three hours before and was intending to sleep until late afternoon, she said.

As usual, none of us knew where Emmett was.

When Mrs. Cope matter-of-factly informed me about calls from Jessica, Lauren et cetera, I hastily interrupted her candid gossiping and excused ourselves from the kitchen.

I surreptitiously glanced at Bella, hoping she didn't picked on that. Her little mouth was twitching and I groaned inwardly.

I decided to give her a tour of the house.

I showed her Carlisle's study first since it was located near the kitchen. Bella got a little nervous when she saw the medical volumes which were predominantly displayed on my father's bookshelves and table.

"My father, Carlisle, is a doctor," I told her quietly, merely stating the obvious.

It didn't seem to have eased her discomfort. I decided to delay informing her that my mother was a psychiatrist.

I took her small hand and we left the study. I veered towards the stairs and to the library on the second floor.

I told her about the gargoyles and the turrets and she giggled when I recounted to her our childish games in this room.

"You were what?" she asked me when I mumbled about fantasy RPG.

"Nevermind," I said quickly.

She pulled a big book from one of the shelves. I could see it was a book about nymphs and a long treatise on Echo, the Greek goddess who was hopelessly in love with Narcissus and pined away until nothing was left of her but her voice.

"You never played RPG?" I asked her. She shook her head slowly.

I explained to her about Japanese video games, indie and D&D. "It's pretend and it's geeky, I know. Blame it on Emmett," I said wryly.

Emmett was big on superhero stuff. I didn't think he ever outgrew his fanaticism, I thought with a smirk.

My amusement suddenly fled when I noticed Bella's rigid body.

For a moment, she had a cloudy look on her face as if she remembered something. She had walked to the corner bookshelves while I was talking about computer games.

She had been standing across from where I was sitting, examining titles when I noted her transfixed expression.

In slow motion, she turned to look at me and I knew she wasn't seeing me at all.

"I once stood on the roof," she said quietly.

"How long were you on the roof?" I asked.

I didn't approach her but I closely scrutinized her face. I was slouching on a big chesterfield armchair.

She frowned. Her skin was so white it was like watching a marble statue.

"Were you pretending to be someone?" I said, when she remained quiet.

She stood still. "Pretending?" she said slowly, confused.

"That you were someone else. Or imagining to be somewhere else," I clarified, my tone nonchalant.

"N-no … I … I was in the woods, on a hill. W-with them," she stuttered, becoming a little alarmed now. She flexed her fingers and she swiveled to the window as if expecting to see someone emerge between the trees.

"You were pretending to be on a hilltop when you were on the roof," I said softly.

I felt uneasy at where this conversation was leading. I still didn't go near her. There was 10 feet of wooden floor between us.

Bella blinked several times and looked sideways at me. She stared at me for several seconds.

I waited.

And I waited.

"You have that look again." Her brows furrowed in concern. "You think I'm crazy," she whispered.

"Well …" I hedged. "I've done crazy things when I was a child. In fact, I still do." I attempted a lazy grin and failed. My heart was starting to skip beats.

She still looked worried, chewing her bottom lip nervously. She was now avoiding looking at me directly.

"Bella," I paused. I saw her wipe at her eyes.

"Come here," I said softly when she finally looked at me.

She shook her head, her fingers tugging at strands of her hair. It should have scared me, the way she was acting, but oddly I wasn't.

"Come here," I repeated.

She slowly approached me, the book she was perusing fell unnoticed to the floor.

When she was standing in front of me, I gently guided her to sit on my lap. I didn't hug her yet. She still looked wary but I tried to soothe her, stroking her bare knee.

We didn't speak for some time. Bella was staring out the wide window at the lawn and gardens, gradually relaxing.

It was almost mid-day.

She frowned, some disturbing memory or thought flickering across her face.

I watched her like the first moment I saw her.

I was amazed that the same agonizing sensations were coursing through me. Emotions I had been feeling for the past three days.

She still didn't move when I placed my hand on her back. My fingers tingled when I touched her.

Behind those brown eyes, Bella was one of the most intuitive and sensitive person I know. _Or do you mean paranoid, Cullen._

I mentally shrugged. The word paranoid was used too casually now, used every day by everyone to describe anything from someone overly suspicious or an irrational person. It had become a common term, although erroneously applied most of the time.

I closed my eyes briefly. Bella was hospitalized for mental disorder. Twice.

It had an impact on her and to those people around her. It was not something easily brushed aside as if she simply had a tooth extracted. It was not surprising that this had given her a mild case of persecution complex.

I took a deep breath and made a conscious effort to stop the direction of my thoughts. This thinking would get me nowhere. Again.

But, if she was programmed to be suspicious, then why did she trust me completely within minutes of meeting her? She had told me that she was not bipolar but there was a duality in her personality. What _does_ she feel about me? And I hate myself for thinking this - but if she _thinks_ she loves me, would it be for real?

And why was this about her? Perhaps it was about me.

If she had a dual personality, I might be purposely thinking of her in that manner too. There was something about Bella that makes me think she was both pure and sin - the more poetic version of love and sex.

Madonna/Whore complex. And I wasn't strictly referring to the psychological condition or the syndrome according to chicken-fucking-Freud.

I tossed a mental coin.

Bella the pure: the woman I wanted to cleave unto me fucking forever until we were one whole unit.

Bella as sex object: the woman I wanted to fuck so hard and use as often as I wanted to until she fucking bleeds.

My mouth twisted in a grimace.

_Yeah, Cullen, male double standards._ It was cultural and sexual double standards since the dawn of time. Sure, women have their own set of moral, social and sexual double standards.

We were all fucking hypocritical and biased.

I was a product of this time, after all, when males were probably losing the battle for sexual objectification.

I released a long sigh of frustration.

The subject of my affliction turned to face me.

We stared at each other, unblinking.

"What are you thinking, Edward?" she whispered.

My virgin and whore.

We had an odd little bond. I need her and she needs me to be with her. It was a fucking madness that I, apparently, have. I always thought "love at first sight" a Greek myth, like Cupid.

"Where did you learn to kiss?" I asked her suddenly. I decided to go in another direction. I was fucking tired of my psycho babbling.

"Mental home … with a girl," she said, blinking owlishly at me.

I gaped at her, my face reddening.

"I'm kidding!" she squeaked.

I convulsively gripped her knee. I had done threesomes and more but still, like any typical male, I was turned on with girl-on-girl action.

"I did have my first kiss with another patient," she murmured.

"Where is he now?"

"He died."

She sank back into me and I tightened my arms around her, kissing the corner of her mouth.

She had been surrounded by death for most of her life.

Bella reached up, tugged my face lower to hers and bit my bottom lip hard. Then she licked it in apology.

I was instantly aroused.

I encircled her waist and lifted her astride, facing me. It pleased me that she was always wearing girly skirts for easy access.

She grabbed the front of my t-shirt when I twirled my tongue on hers, catching her moan in my mouth when I deepened the kiss.

I could hear faint footsteps in the hallway outside and I couldn't remember if I locked the damned door. I inhaled her strawberry scent and made a decision.

Mrs. Cope could suddenly appear or see us from the big windows but I couldn't fucking care. I couldn't stop. I had to have her.

"People outside the door." I bit and pulled at her bottom lip.

"You have to be quiet." My fingers grazed past the sides of her breasts.

She moaned, looking up at me as if I was a fucking god. She rubbed her delicious tits against my chest, knowing it would blow my mind. I cupped one and squeezed.

Because I was me, I was prepared. Without breaking the kiss, I unpop the buttons of my trousers and took my cock out. I slipped my rubber on and grunted when Bella squirmed against my hand holding my dick.

I inserted two fingers inside her -stroking, rubbing, making sure she was ready. I pulled her soaked panties aside and shoved my boner into her. She gasped, clutching my shirtfront. I lifted her and slammed her down harder on my erection, letting her know she could set the pace and depth of penetration.

She wriggled her hips and pelvis. I shoved deeper.

"Brace your knees," I grunted. "Slide up and down on me."

Holding on to my shoulders, she kept a steady pace. I bit the inside of my lower lip so hard I tasted blood. This pace was killing me. I thrust harder, angling it in such a way that I hit her clit directly and repeatedly.

She smothered a scream and flung her arms around my shoulders. I groped her breast and held on. When I felt her clenching around me I quickly crushed my mouth on hers to muffle her moaning.

Spent and limp, she lay quiet, her head buried in the crook of my neck.

She gazed up at me, confused, many seconds later. I was still inside her, still big and hard. She looked down where we were joined.

Mrs. Cope hollered at someone outside the door and I hastily lifted Bella – we both groaned at the sensation – off of me. I painfully rebuttoned my pants, inspected her appearance and I hurried her out of the library, to the third floor, to my room.

As soon as the door was shut, I pulled out my cock, pushed her on the bed, dragged her panties down her legs and knelt between her thighs. I lifted one of her legs on my shoulder and plunged my cock as deep inside her as I could. I was so fucking embedded the tip of my cock hit her uterus. I rocked once, twice, and pummeled her harder. She screamed. I was gone within seconds.

_Mo-ther-fuck-er._

My body still shaking, I rolled over my side.

I turned my head to look at her.

Bella was eyeing me with renewed interest.

"H-how many times …" She stammered, breathless, blushing furiously. She tried again. "How many ways could you do that?"

I looked at her bright eyes, hair wet with sweat and her puffy lips.

I gave her my lopsided smile. "I'd rather show you than tell you, baby," I said huskily.

She blinked and the sweetest, fucking sexiest smile lightened her beautiful face.

When we finally left my room, it was dark outside.

* * *

*****a/n**

Echo, in some literature, is a water nymph and not strictly a goddess.


	13. Bambie

Twilight by **Stephenie Meyer** was on the New York Times bestsellers list for more than 30 weeks.

**Chapter13/Bambie**

Bella was wearing my smallest t-shirt – and still too big for her - and Esme's drawstring cotton pants.

She looked tired and sleepy and like a prick, I smirked. I was fucking too happy about her obvious exhaustion.

She later confessed that she was out of clean clothes and I felt guilty about that. I should have remembered that she only had a small carry-on. I thought of asking Alice but I abandoned that idea. I was likely to get interviewed for an hour before she lets me out of her room. I opted to search my mother's closet instead.

Bella gathered up her clothes and undies, and we went to the laundry room. I left her there to prepare our late dinner in the kitchen. I realized we missed lunch when my stomach began a fierce grumbling.

She helped set the table when she found me there.

"Do you like to cook?" I asked her.

She beamed at me, nodding her head. "But I like inventing sandwiches. I love big sandwiches! It is a salad and lots of cheese and everything else you want."

I smiled at her enthusiasm. I loved hearing her happy voice.

"… and bagels!" she gushed like a little girl. "Do you like pretzels? Which are really bagels but shaped differently. Did you know bagels, because they are ring-shaped, have magical powers? They're supposed to bring good luck to newborn babies … and then back in the 17th century …"

She was going on and on about bread, dairy products and sauces. I realized she could talk about anything – even a long discourse on wheat bread and rye bread - and I wouldn't get bored with her. I absorbed her soft, melodic voice and loved the way she pronounces certain words.

My musically-inclined ears picked out her tone and pitch of voice. I loved the sound of her laughter and I ached when she cried. The sounds she made when we make love were the most glorious music in my ears. I silently laughed at my waxing poetic.

I recalled a moment last night before I went to sleep. It started as a generic note, a pitch in my head and it continued on in my subconscious.

By the time I woke up the frequency of music had become the beginnings of a composition. I quickly forgot about it though. Maybe there was more to it than it seemed.

I cleared the table while she checked on her laundry. She went back to my … _our_ room and I stayed in the kitchen, washing dishes.

I heard cars in the driveway and minutes later, the slamming of the front door. Alice burst into the kitchen.

"What did I miss?"

I smirked at her and shrugged, which was my only response. She rolled her eyes at me and yelled for Jasper.

"He's still irascible Edward," she complained to him, her pixie face sulking.

Jasper took one look at me and returned my sly grin.

"Like a stag after the mating season," the prick said, pointing his chin in my direction.

I raised my eyebrow at him.

"After?"

"Fine. _During," _the prick amended.

"So where's Bambie?" this from Alice.

I scowled at her.

I told her I would bring Bella down in the sitting room – which was the smaller living room - and firmly reminded her to behave herself. I could hear Emmett's voice coming from the room. And Rosalie's. I sighed.

Alice, the resident self-proclaimed psychic, had her Rider-Waite Tarot cards spread on the table when we joined the group 15 minutes later.

She was shuffling and re-shuffling the colorful deck of cards and randomly picking up cards and placing them face down on the table. Jasper was watching her, amused.

Emmett and Rosalie were coiled around each other in the big recliner watching the TV screen with the sound off. I snorted at them.

Emmett would watch a movie once and when he liked it, he would watch it again three, four times more but no sound. He was trying to convince us that movies posess a secret language and best viewed mute.

I glanced at the screen. The Hulk, the 2003 release. Nice.

I was five years old when I first saw topless, boobsy Jennifer Connelly on screen. She was the reason why I was tits-obsessed.

"Bella! My shirts will fit you better." Alice, of course, immediately noticed Bella wearing my oversized shirt.

She blushed. Emmett laughed.

I pulled her to a two-seater, slouched back and wrapped my arms around her. I told my sister about Bella's lack of clothes.

"No problem. We'll go shopping tomorrow," she said cheerfully.

I felt Bella tense and I gently rubbed her back.

"I'll come with you," I whispered to her.

Jasper was mixing drinks in the bar. He prepared everyone's preferences. He turned to Bella.

"What do you like to drink, Bella?"

"I'll just get a smoothie, thank you."

She was about to get up but I stopped her.

I narrowed my eyes at Jasper who was covertly observing Bella.

I could easily read his fucking mind.

If he suspects Bella was popping prescription drugs, she wouldn't drink alcohol. Everybody knows antidepressants and alcohol were not good combined. It would make the drugs ineffective.

"We'll go get it," I whispered to her.

I glared at Jasper when I passed by him on our way to the kitchen. He had the grace to look guilty, the prick.

I took several fruity drinks from the fridge so she could choose. I placed them on the kitchen counter.

She ignored the selection and was looking at me instead. She reached out a hand and lightly caressed my jaw.

I leaned down and kissed her.

"Do you want to be alone with me?" I offered quietly.

"Yes," she whispered, her small hand stroking my bedraggled hair. I shivered. "But I also want to spend a little time with your family."

She blindly reached for a bottle and we went back to the other room.

Alice was re-shuffling her Tarot deck.

When she saw Bella her face brightened.

"Bella, have you ever had a Tarot reading?"

She shook her head, sitting very close to me, her head on my chest.

Alice walked over to her, dragging the short coffee table with her. She knelt on the floor.

"These are Tarot cards. There are 78 decks. These -" She spread 22 cards with lively drawings of mystical symbolisms, "are called the Major Arcana. The rest are the pip cards. See? They also have kings and queens and there are four suits like the regular playing cards."

She explained in detail about each of the Major Arcana cards and the symbolisms' most common interpretations.

I watched Bella taking all these in. She seemed interested enough. She sat up straighter and was giving Alice her full attention. I lightly caressed her back.

"What are they supposed to tell you?" Bella asked quietly.

"The future of course!" Alice chirped, all smiles.


	14. Knight

Twilight by **Stephenie Meyer** has sold over 100 million copies worldwide.

**Chapter14/Knight**

Alice asked Bella to shuffle the Tarot decks as many times as she wanted. She sat cross-legged on the floor. I watched, amused, as she tried to shuffle the cards.

She was obviously not a card player.

Emmett, who had approached the bar and could watch what was going on, was teasing her about it.

I couldn't bear to be close to her and not touch her so I slouched my shoulders forward to maintain contact with her back and hair.

I noticed that Rosalie had moved closer as well, comfortably sitting in a nearby wicker armchair, idly flipping through a glossy.

Jasper, not bothering to hide his curiosity, was standing to the side looking at Alice and Bella.

Alice instructed her to cut the decks three times and to choose one card, which remained faced down. Then she asked Bella to randomly select 10 more cards, each placed faced down on the table.

The resident psychic placed Bella's left hand on the 11 cards she had selected for some esoteric ritual. Must be to set the mystical tone associated with Tarot reading, I snorted to myself.

My sister turned the first card up, revealing a winged angel by a stream, holding two pitchers and pouring liquid into the mouth of each of the pitchers.

Alice's face stilled, staring at the card. She put down the card and didn't say anything.

"What?" I asked her, a little annoyed at her mysterious silence.

She shrugged delicately, explaining to Bella that the first card was called a significator.

"I don't always include it. I'm just curious." And she said no more. I sighed.

She flipped the second card, which she said was actually the first card. It was an illustration of a man and a woman holding two cups.

"Ahh … Two of Cups. Friendship, affection and perhaps love," she looked up with a secret smile. "This is in your present now. This also indicates that you are happy."

I couldn't see Bella's face and I realized I wanted to see her reaction to Alice's words.

Trying to be casual about it, I got up and walked to the bar, placed my empty drink on the counter, and leaned back.

I stared at Bella's pink face, a small smile on her lips. She liked what she was hearing so far. I breathed a sigh of relief.

My sister flipped the second card.

"The Seven of Swords." She leaned forward. "It's facing me so it's in reverse," Alice explained again, adding that in most cases an upside-down card was a negative sign. "You need to be on your guard," she said. "Whatever you have could be taken away from you. This card is a warning."

Bella nodded, her eyes still on the cards. Jasper moved a little closer so he could see the cards on the table.

Alice revealed another card and placed it above the first two cards. "The Hanged Man card," she said softly.

She looked up at me, her eyes steady. Slowly, she turned back to Bella. "What you want later can be achieved. You can have it … a goal, a plan, or even a _person_. But it will require a great sacrifice from you." She paused. "To get what you most desire, you have to give up something."

She tapped the card, tracing the drawing of the hanged man.

"For a long time you felt that your life was in limbo," she said softly, not looking at Bella. "You've been stuck in a place as if you are suspended. You had no control at all," my sister continued. "Everything about you has been decided for you."

What she was saying was tugging something fierce at the center of my being. I felt goose bumps on my skin.

I watched Bella absorb all this. Her face was frozen, her eyes on the cards. I could feel Jasper looking at me but I was focused only on the girl.

My sister opened another card and placed it below the other three cards. "The Empress card," she said.

She studied the card for a long time. Bella sat motionless.

"It's in reverse," the reader, Alice, added. "This could be someone from your past. A woman … an older woman." She paused. "She seemed to be not … around you. Not hovering. Not part of your life … and yet …" She tilted her head to the side. "She had a powerful influence on you. She controlled your environment and in a way, she has limited your personal growth."

My sister turned the card until it was facing Bella.

"This card has a negative side and a positive side Bella," she said softly. She leaned towards her. "It's the mother card," she said with emphasis, as if she knew this was significant to Bella. "The mother also symbolizes birth of a child. It is a new beginning. It's not all bad, Bella," she said with some urgency. "A reverse Empress card could mean indecision, even ignorance. A mother's protection has turned abusive. But the other side is the comforting mother."

I had been carefully monitoring Bella's reaction all this time. She had a passive expression on her face. I willed her to look at me but she remained glued to the cards.

As if she had expended too much energy, Alice sighed heavily.

She pulled the fifth card and placed it on her right, before the second card.

"The Eight of Swords."

I winced.

I was familiar with the symbols drawn on that card. It was of a woman, blindfolded, her hands tied behind her back, and she was surrounded by eight swords like a cage.

Bella's pale face seemed to drain of what little color she had.

"It's not a nice card, isn't?" Alice murmured. "This card shows what you are leaving behind you. However it is also another warning that things could still go wrong."

Bella nodded once. I could tell the illustration on the card was making her nervous and agitated.

"We sometimes feel trapped but we are trapped by our own fears," my sister told Bella and for some reason, I felt that she was talking to me too. "The swords here …" She traced the picture with her hand. "They could indicate restrictions on you that are not of your own making. But I see that these swords are only in your mind. It's an emotional and psychological cage and this is telling you that you may have avoided it this time but it could still come back and cage you again."

My sister placed and turned up the sixth card to her left. "The Two of Wands," she said next. "This tells you to beware of an unexpected situation. Something you thought would not happen. It is coming. And it has the potential of turning your world upside down," Alice continued in a listless tone, as if she wasn't aware that she was affecting the girl in front of her.

My sister stared at the card and went silent again. Her finger pointed to the fifth card. "This card describes something in your past but this one," she tapped the sixth card, "is something that has yet to happen. This seemed immediate. It's very near in your future."

I frowned. This portion was a little vague. Bella was showing no reaction at all, her face still passive. At this point, the first six cards completed a cross.

From experience, I knew that the last four cards would form a scepter or cards lined vertically, from bottom to top.

Alice flipped the seventh card. "The Ten of Wands."

She suddenly straightened and looked at her querent. "Relax, Bella." She smiled. "You have taken on too much already. Stand back and take stock of what you have. See what you've done lately. Has it been good?"

For the first time, color flooded Bella's face. I thought she was going to raise her head and look at me this time. In fact she looked like she would like to look up and find me but she didn't.

"You've never been happier," my sister said so softly it was almost a whisper.

Alice turned up the eighth card and placed it on top of the last one. She swiveled to me and shot me a giddy look. She raised the card and showed it to me.

The Lovers card. I groaned.

This was a drawing of a nude couple in a pose reminiscent of Adam and Eve. The male was standing beside a flaming tree.

"This card, The Lovers, is your house, Bella. And dare I guess who is involved here?" She pointed her small chin at me. "This represents your situation and your environment. That's all I'm going to say about it," she said, giggling, which irritated me.

We were down to the last two cards.

If Alice was playful before, she was positively thrilled when the ninth card was exposed to us.

"The Knight of Cups!" she said cheerfully.

She reached out and touched Bella's hand briefly then held the latest card with both of her hands. "Your hopes and fears," Alice said quietly, looking at Bella.

The women stared at each other for a long time.

"There are four knights in the Tarot." Alice felt the need to expound for some reason. "The Knight of Swords, the Knight of Pentacles, the Knight of Wands and … your Knight of Cups," she continued with drama.

"M-my knight?" Bella spoke for the first time. Her blush deepened.

"If pertaining to a person, the Knight of Cups is either a young man or woman. In your case, it's a young man. Let's see … this person is in his teens or early twenties but not more than 35," she said archly.

She stared at the card for a long time. "A generous young man. Intelligent," she declared with an enigmatic grin. "And honest," she commented, looking Bella in the eye. "His gift is that he could look at a person and know his or her true nature."

"But," she said suddenly. "If this card is not a person but is a description of a situation, it's still a positive card. Look - it shows a knight riding a white horse, bringing you a cup, a chalice … like a promise." She paused for effect.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at Alice.

"He is the messenger of true love," my sister said quietly.

Bella finally looked me squarely in the eye. I fucking felt my face flushing deep red.

I couldn't look away from her.

For a moment, it was as if we were the only two people in the room. Everyone faded into the background like dispersed smoke.

I took a step forward and stopped.

Alice was speaking again.

Bella dropped her eyes. I let out a deep sigh, not realizing I had stopped breathing.

"This is the last card," Alice announced. She flipped the card and fell back. "The Death card,' she said worriedly.

Bella's eyes flew back to me. I stared back at her, fucking telling her with my eyes to stay calm. That this was just a Tarot reading, that the illustrations had no literal meaning.

I knew what the Death card looked like. It was a grim skeleton in black armor riding a horse.

"Alice," I said, a note of caution in my voice.

My sister raised her hand at me in a stay-where-you-are gesture.

"Another awful card to look at," she said, her voice neutral.

She waited until Bella's eyes turned back to the cards, staring fixedly at the ominous picture.

"Bella," my sister began. "Some Tarot readers will interpret this card, in this position as the last card, as future death."

I gritted my teeth to stop myself from yelling at my sibling.

Oh fuck, _Alice!_

"But ..." Alice leaned in closer. "I think this means that a major change will happen to your life, Bella. 'Death' could mean the end of your life as it was, not actual physical death. It's giving up the past, leaving behind the old you so the new you could be reborn," she said with passion. "Bella," she reached out and touched her face. "It could be a new beginning."

"I will not die," Bella whispered, spearing me with her panicked look.

I had enough.

I walked over to them, ruffled Alice's hair and offered Bella my hand.

She was misty eyed but gave me her limp, cold hand. I pulled her up and murmured goodnight to everyone.

"Edward - " My sister pleaded.

I turned to her and forced a smile.

"Alice, that was very interesting, as usual," I said, nonchalant. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Bella," Alice called out.

Bella, surprising me, went to Alice and gave her a hug. My sister smothered what sounded suspiciously like a sob and hugged her back.

She was quiet on our way to our room.

When the door closed behind us, I gathered her in my arms in a tight embrace. I swung her legs up around my waist and carried her to bed.

My back to the headboard, I sat with her on my lap, straddling me. We clung to each other, her face buried in the crook of my neck.

"Tarot readings are only insights," I murmured, stroking her hair. "It's not cast in stone, baby."

She stayed quiet.

I was content, for now, with her in my arms.

After several long minutes, she raised her head and touched her soft lips to mine.

* * *

I made love with her slowly this time.

"My knight," she breathed into my mouth later, when I was hovering above her, about to enter her.

I raised her arms above her head and slowly penetrated. I paused, savoring the feel of her around me. And when she came, she said my name.


	15. Candies

**Stephenie Meyer's** first bestseller was Twilight. Her last was The Host, which had nothing to do with this story.

**Chapter15/Candies**

Bella's side of the bed was empty when I reached out for her as soon as I woke up.

I cracked one eye open. She wasn't in bed.

I sat up, rubbing my face vigorously. I got out of bed and opened the bathroom door but she was not in here too.

Her vanity bag was tucked in the corner of the marble counter and it was open. I could see there were several plastic containers inside, two of them I could easily identify.

Not touching the drugs, I saw that the white one was a mood stabilizer. I squinched my eyes to read the tiny yellow label of the smaller bottle. I went still.

It was a neuroleptic.

I straightened up, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

An antipsychotic drug_._

I clenched my jaw. My eyes fixed sightlessly at the blurred image. I felt my breathing become shallow and rapid.

I didn't move. And then I was a flurry of action. I did my morning routine: I showered, put on clothes and left my room.

In the hallway I stopped abruptly, my hands clutching at my hair. I blocked the rush of thoughts from taking hold in my brain.

_Not yet, Cullen._

I quickly went down to the second floor and turned to the back stairs leading directly to my father's study below, between the kitchen and sitting room.

I could hear laughter from the kitchen.

I could hear _her_.

I entered Carlisle's office and locked it.

I went straight to the bookshelves and selected the book I wanted. I scanned it, confirming my suspicions. I exited the room.

"Good morning, Edward," Mrs. Cope greeted me in a hushed voice.

She just emerged from the kitchen, seeing me standing motionless outside my father's study.

I tried to relax and to smile back at her, wondering why she was whispering and not her usual exuberant self.

"Is Bella in the kitchen?"

"Yes, dearie." She passed by me and shooed me off to the kitchen. "She has a surprise for you."

Bella was facing the sink, her back to me.

I paused in the doorway. She was wearing the same plain light blue sundress she had on the day I met her.

A stinging rivulet of pain surged up my body and I staggered back.

I flattened my back against the wall outside the kitchen, breathing hard. All I could think of was that she was fucking _mine! _And no one, not her mother, not her fucking doctors and not even Bella herself could ruin this for me!

I didn't fucking care what her condition was. I _knew_ she had something.

Knew it had to be really serious. She was fucking hospitalized for this! Spent fucking god knows how many fucking years suffering this illness.

_Get a grip on yourself, Cullen. Deal with it._

I forced myself to breathe normally.

My mind needed a reassurance and my sister's words came back to me.

"_You've never been happier ..."_ She had told Bella last night. I closed my eyes, doing my best to appear calm.

She was happy.

I made her happy.

I turned back and walked into the kitchen.

Bella heard my approach and whirled, her smiling face so beautiful it hardened my resolve to keep her with me no matter what happened.

"I missed you this morning," I told her quietly, slipping my arms around her waist and hugging her.

I inhaled her Bella scent and the smell of freshly baked bread.

I looked down at her and quirked a brow at her. She giggled, reaching up and kissing my stubbly chin.

"Breakfast, Edward," she said. "And I hope you'll like it."

I kissed her soft lips. "I'll eat anything of yours," I said, teasing.

She blushed as charmingly as always. She skipped to the counter where she had been preparing our food.

"Mrs. Cope and I have been talking for an hour …" She walked to one of the cabinets and took out a flat box. "She told me you like pepperoni, spicy garlic sausages, chicken, Italian mixed sauces and hard cheese. Am I correct?"

I nodded, stroking her arm because I really just need to touch her.

While she was reconfirming to me Alice's and Emmett's own food preferences – according to Mrs. Cope - I surveyed her face.

Her skin was pale but it was not blotchy. She had no rashes anywhere on her body. Her skin was soft, not dry, and her eyes were alert, not droopy.

The first time I saw her, she had a barely noticeable bruise-like color underneath her eyes for lack of sleep but it was gone now.

Looking at her, one wouldn't be able to detect any telltale signs or symptoms of someone taking antipsychotic medicines. She appeared so _regular_, except maybe for her too pale skin but that was not something to over-think about.

I mentally scanned the pages of the book I just read.

She was never incoherent.

She would get nervous and stammer her words but that was not rambling. Her sleeping pattern seemed normal and if she was a little low on energy sometimes it was not so worrisome to be noteworthy.

"How do you feel about veggies and olives in your sandwich?" she suddenly asked me, inspecting her choices in front of her.

"No olives. I'll have lettuce, tomatoes and onions," I told her decisively.

I made an effort to push aside my disturbing thoughts. I was not denying these thoughts, only temporarily put on hold.

"Pickles?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"If there will be cheese involved."

She nodded approvingly.

"You know your pickles. Sweet?"

"Did you just call me sweet?"

She tilted her head at me, the corner of her mouth twitching.

"I wouldn't know I haven't tasted you," she said softly, looking up at me from under her lashes.

Forgetting my earlier preoccupation of her non-symptomatic appearance, a jolt of lust so powerful zipped through my body I nearly creamed my fucking pants.

I convulsively squeezed her harm a little too hard. She yelped.

"Oh, sorry," I murmured.

I smoothed my hand down her offended arm and I gave her my crooked drop-your-panties-now grin.

"You shouldn't tease a man who woke up without his girlfriend by his side."

She froze, her face flaming.

She opened her mouth but no words came out.

I leaned down and breathed into her ear. "Don't you think I passed the boyfriend test?"

"W-what boyfriend test?" she whispered, her eyes huge on me.

Completely relaxing, I put my arm around her waist and appeared deep in thought. She was staring at me and I almost laughed at her stunned expression.

"Am I not affectionate enough?" I murmured.

She nodded, her expression a little dazed.

"Considerate? Devotes time to you?" I squeezed her waist, tickling her.

She squirmed but she nodded her head more emphatically.

"Takes care of your … needs?" I added, my tone deliberately low.

Blushing furiously, she affirmed that again. She averted her eyes.

I placed my hands on her shoulders and turned her to face me. "You do the same for me, Bella." When she still wouldn't look at me, I tipped her chin up. "More than I deserve."

Her eyes were shining and she tiptoed up to kiss my lips. I held her small face in my hands and deepened the kiss.

"Whoa! Prince of Cups!" Emmett suddenly intruded behind us. "Can't you leave the poor girl alone?"

I heard a surprised "Oooff" followed by an "Ouch!"

Alice was slapping the back of my brother's head.

"The Knight of Cups, fool!" My sister ground out, annoyed.

I smirked, turning Bella and myself around to face my siblings.

"Good morning, Bella!" Alice said in her sing-song voice, grabbing a mug of coffee.

Bella smiled at my sister and brother. "Good morning."

"Are you making a sandwich?" she asked.

"Yes. Bella is a wichtatouille," I told them.

Alice skipped to Bella's side and asked her if she could make her a roll.

"Sure. Can I make you a sandwich too, Emmett?" she graciously asked my brother. His face turned as red as an overripe tomato, the idiot.

Bella blushed too. "I mean … I-I can tell you can cook and know a lot about food and I only want to do something for you both," she said in a rush.

Emmett lightly patted her arm. "Please, Bella, make me a sandwich and I'd cook for you one of these days," he said softly.

Bella smiled up at him and started preparing our breakfast.

We exchanged jokes and insults while Bella got busy making three of the yummiest-looking subs I had ever seen. She cut big-sized French bread rolls for Emmett and me, while she made two smaller sizes of ciabatta, which she called Spuckie, for Alice and herself.

There was no more talking while we ate. Bella was beaming at our obvious delight.

"This is amduhmermfmamker good beef sandwich, Bella," Emmett said in between bites and munching. He suddenly sputtered and choked, and Alice slapped his back a little too forcefully. They started glaring at each other.

I sighed, rolling my eyes at their silliness.

Bella had a wistful expression on her face and my heart expanded. She looked happy watching my siblings bickering.

"I can help you find clothes quicker than humanly possible. We don't have to spend all afternoon shopping," Alice told Bella after she had finished eating.

Bella looked at me, uncertain, and I nodded.

"We can do that if you like," I said, conveying to her that she could decline if she didn't want to leave the house today.

"I'd like that," she told my sister quietly.

Alice left the house 30 minutes later to meet Jasper at his cousin's office. He was helping his relative, originally from Texas, with his logistics operation here in Chicago.

Emmett mumbled something about Rosalie's hair and drove his Hummer off the driveway.

Except for Mrs. Cope, we were practically alone. Again. I grinned at the thought.

We left the kitchen and wandered around the living room.

"Let's go to the library," Bella said, grabbing my hand and leading me up to the second floor.

The word "library" coming out of Bella's sweet mouth only had one vision accompanying it.

I shook my head at myself, readjusting the front of my suddenly tight jeans.


	16. Burning

**Stephenie Meyer **of Twilight wrote five other books.

**Chapter16/Burning**

I had always considered the library a pleasant and homey place. It was how my mother intended it to be when she redesigned and remodeled this room.

Except for the two leather chesterfield armchairs, all the sofas and armchairs were in cream-white slipcovers with scattered multicolored cushions. She kept the original wood flooring but dropped several rugs in places.

Bella went straight to the corner bookshelves and took out two books. She didn't sit on one of the armchairs. Instead, she slipped off her shoes and sat on the floor cross-legged and started reading, her profile to me.

I grabbed a book and slouched comfortably in my favorite chesterfield. I would glance up and look at her often. She seemed so engrossed in what she was reading, her back resting on one of the columns.

Thirty minutes later I quit pretending to read and I just watched her.

I did my best not to be too obvious about it. She was probably used to me watching her all the time by now, like a lovesick idiot. Which I was, I smirked to myself.

Four days. Two of them were the best I had in a long, long time.

I try to be myself around her because pretending to be what I was not was just not sustainable.

With Bella, it was easy to be me, I thought in surprise. Even during sex, I was me.

I thought of holding back, to reign in my libido but it was impossible. I could probably do it with some women but not with her.

I didn't think I would ever get enough of her.

My eyes swept her profile and the rest of her, my ears straining to hear her soft breathing. I released a deep sigh.

I own an excessive appetite for this woman. I could see myself lifting her from the floor and laying her down on the big sofa.

I looked at her intently.

I was about to get up and do just that when I saw her smile at what she was reading. I sat back down again. I let out a long breath.

She was too involved in her reading. It would be too inconsiderate of me to interrupt just because I was fucking horny all the time.

I spent more than an hour watching her. Occasionally I would feel awkward about it and I would get up and walk here and there forcing my mind to wander somewhere else. But how could I think of something else when she was right here, just 10 feet away from me.

I had never been in love before and I didn't know what to do, if suddenly idle. When I was with her I think about her. The few times I was not with her, my thoughts were still centered on her. And why was she so absorbed in that book? I thought resentfully, not caring of my irrational behavior. Why was she ignoring me? I looked back at her. _Was_ she ignoring me?

I snorted at myself, disgusted. I turned away feeling fucking stupid. I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or cry. I was fucking pussy-whipped. I stopped my aimless circling immediately. Me? _Edward Cullen, babe magnet,_ according to Tanya, _pussy-whipped? _

I went back to my armchair and leaned back, staring at the ceiling this time, in defiance.

I was more relieved than I should be when a silent, then insistent knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.

It was unlocked but Mrs. Cope knew better than to open an unlocked door without first knocking in this house. I laughed silently, remembering her reaction. She would never burst through a closed door again after that time with -I forgot her name - that red head.

Bella was getting up but I shook my head at her. I opened the door on Mrs. Cope's third series of staccato knocking.

"Oh," she said, acting surprised. Her eyes immediately went to Bella. "Edward, feed your guest," she said in a mild reprimand, reminding me that it was time for lunch. "Oh, and I'm leaving in half an hour." She informed me about something she had to pick up somewhere but all I could think of was Bella and me, alone. I smiled at her and gave her a buss on the cheek. She blushed and left.

Bella had placed the books back in their shelf and was standing behind me. I took her small hand and led her into the kitchen.

"I'm not really hungry," she whispered.

"We'll take something and eat outside in the gazebo. You haven't seen the garden yet," I told her softly. The sun was out and it was not that humid and not that hot. Perfect for what I was planning.

* * *

We packed three grilled panini and Bella quickly threw in a simplified Greek Salad of lettuce and olives. I led her out the back porch for a small tour of the garden. It was several interconnecting gardens in fact. At the center was the fountain and hidden behind a copse of flowering trees was the small swimming pool.

The garden was Mom's version of a little forest. It was landscaped but in a way that was not conventional.

When my parents bought the house they thought of building a small one-bedroom cottage out at the back but Alice begged them to convert the big backyard into a sprawling garden with a tree house. She got her garden but not the tree house. Mom had a thing about tree houses. She fell from one as a child, hurt her ankle and she cursed tree houses since then.

Alice got a gazebo instead. It was a tall, octagon, wood gazebo with screened windows and a door, which my Mom insisted on. It was big enough for four people to be comfortable in.

I held the screen door open for Bella. Inside, there were two wicker armchairs, a low center table and a day bed. She looked around, eyed the day bed for a second longer. She walked over and sat there, amidst the cushions. I placed our packed lunch on the table.

I had planned this of course. I didn't think I was too obvious about it but by the brief small smile she gave the day bed, she knew what I was about.

I watched her for a moment.

As much as I wanted to lay her down on the white mattress, pay homage to her perfect tits and drag her panties off of her, there was something I wanted to know first. Something I wanted to talk to her about. I had waited two days for what I was planning to do. She was so relaxed and happy with us that I didn't want to ruin whatever bliss she finds herself in at the moment.

"Do you want to eat now?" She said yes and we laid out the food and I moved the table closer to the bed's frame. "Bella, can I ask you about your life in London?"

She slowly nodded.

"Is your aunt married?" I took a bite of the panino.

"She's a widow."

"It's just you and your aunt while you were with her?"

She nodded. She had stopped eating her salad.

"She's your dad's only sister?"

"Yes. Aunt Marge is older than Charlie. She's been living in London for 22 years," she volunteered this time.

"What was she like?"

She smiled, resuming eating her salad. "She's a nice person but she's a little …" She creased her brow. "Distant."

"She took care of you." I said this as a statement, not as a question. I finished the roll and drinking my coke now.

"Yes, I think so too."

"You didn't tell her you were leaving," I asked next.

She sat immobile for some seconds. Then she nodded. She put her plate of salad on the table and looked at me.

"You think I should call her," she said in a toneless voice.

"No. I think _I_ should call her," I said quietly. I took her small hand in mine.

She looked at our clasped hands and didn't say anything.

"What will you tell her?"

"Bella, I need to inform your aunt that you are safe."

She stiffened, but did not release her hold on me. "What else will you say to her?"

"That you are with my family and you can stay with us for as long as you want. This will be your home too, Bella." I lifted her chin, kissing her forehead. "I will tell her that I have the best of intentions for you."

I looked down and captured her eyes fully. "If you'll have me."

She did not smile. "I'm old enough to decide that."

I smiled. "Yes, you are."

"You can do whatever you want, tell my aunt whatever you want … but please Edward, let me stay here for awhile?" She gripped my hand tighter.

"You don't have to beg, sweetheart," I said softy, kissing her hand. "I want to keep you here with me, always."

She sighed. "Later, please? Call her later? I want to be with you longer."

"Bella, you can be with me even then and after we call your family," I told her firmly.

She took a deep breath again, leaned closer and kissed me softly. "I trust you," she whispered.

I promised her I would delay contacting her relatives but right then I decided to call her friend, Angela, later. She didn't comment on that and moved even closer to me.

Bella wound her arms around my neck and teased my closed lips with her tongue. I opened my mouth, letting her tongue inside to explore. She caressed my bristly jaw and I angled my face to make the kiss deeper.

My perpetual stiffy hardened to full throbbing length when she emitted those breathy moans only she could make.

I breathe in her scent, smelled her arousal and I shifted restlessly, putting my hands on her waist and pulling her closer and onto my lap. I stroked her back, lifted her and pushed her directly on top of my erection. With her straddling me, I moved us backward until my back was against the headboard.

I bent my knees and sat her comfortably on my legs. My hands on her hip moved up and cupped her breasts. I stared at her heaving chest.

"May I linger here?" I asked her, my voice husky. I gently brushed the soft side of one breast. I looked up at her with hot, begging eyes.

She nodded slowly, her cheeks flushed.

With trembling hands I unzipped the back of her dress, slid the short sleeves down her shoulder and arms. I unhooked her bra and pulled it off her arms as well.

I stared at her white perfect breasts and pink erect nipples for a long time, slowly caressing her shapes with my fingertips.

"I can suckle you for hours. Do you know that?" I breathed in her sweet scent.

She was mesmerized, her eyes on my hands loving her breasts.

"I can lick and suck you until the end of time," I told her throatily. I was a fucking mass of shaking, swarm of testosterone.

I leaned closer and captured a puckered nipple in my mouth, cupping its fullness while I suck and lick, my tongue rubbing back and forth and around the areola. She curved her back to give me more skin. She also rewarded me with her fucking sexy breathy little moans.

I was looking up at her the entire time my tongue was laving her fucking delicious tits, my hands kneading, plucking at her soft skin. She made a little sound and I stopped. I released her distended nipple with a distinct pop.

"Y-you -" She stopped, breathless, her eyes shining.

"What?" I circled her pink areola with my index finger.

"You like it," she said, giving up a little moan.

"What do I like?" Holding her eyes to my own, I leaned and flicked my tongue against a turgid nipple.

"What y-you're doing," she gasped.

"You mean this?" I slowly swallowed one whole areola and sucked hard.

"Yesss." She moaned out loud, her hips moving against my erection.

"Don't be shy about telling me what I do to you or what you want me to do to you, Bella," I murmured, my face moving to the side of her left breast, nuzzling.

I returned to her puffy nipple and used my teeth this time. She inhaled harshly.

I stopped, gently tracing the little bud with my thumb. "That hurt?"

"Sometimes."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I blew a breath of warm air on her nipple. She shivered.

I transferred my attention to its twin, restarting all over again: sucking, licking, tonguing.

"Y-you like my … breasts?" she breathed.

"I don't _like_ your breasts, Bella," I told her solemnly, looking up at her. My tongue dipped lower again, swirling. "I worship them."

I wrapped my arms around her lower back and brought her closer to take more of her skin in my mouth.

"I want -" She bit her lower lip.

I lifted my head, quirking a brow at her, waiting for her to continue. She remained mute.

"What do you want, Bella," I asked softly.

"I-I want you inside," she whispered.

My heart stopped and when it moved again it had tripled its beating. I felt a terrific rush of blood pool in my groin. I was so fucking hard it was painful.

I slid my hand down and under her panties to rub her. She arched her back with a whimper and started moving her hips and pelvis, pumping against my hand. I pulled her panties down her leg. I held her eyes while I slowly and expertly extracted my rubber, undid the buttons of my jeans and rolled it onto my cock.

I held the back of my legs. "Lower yourself on me," I said huskily.

I entered her deep, fully embedding my entire length in her tight clasp. I stilled my body, fucking struggling to remain motionless. I wanted her to feel every pulsating inch of my cock. I stared at her beautiful face. She was looking at me a little wildly, her breathing rough.

My hands on her hips, I encouraged her to move in a slow up-and-down pace. I cupped a hand under her butt, squeezing, and coaching her to try an angle and rhythm for her utmost stimulation. I palmed her tits and bit the skin above a nipple.

She sucked in a breath and her eyes widened when I deliberately stroked her hot spot. On her own she repeated the movement and kept a steady pace. I never let her drop her gaze from mine and I never stopped groping her luscious tits.

"How many times?" I growled at her. "In two days, how many fucking times, Bella."

She didn't pretend to not know what I was talking about. She bit her lip.

"Nine?" she panted.

"You forgot the couch in my room and the second shower." I slowly lifted her off of me half way and without pausing I pushed her down so fast she almost screamed.

She bit her lower lip, whimpering. "E-eleven?"

"You should count them twice." I gritted my teeth, lifting her and slamming her down harder, the bulge at the end of my cock hitting her uterus.

"13," she hissed, almost sobbing.

"Multiply half of that number by two," I grunted. My dick impaled inside her, I leaned and licked a pebbled nipple.

"20!" she gasped, then, "Edward … plleeaaase," she begged, digging her fingernails into my arm.

I smirked. "And how long have I known you?" I fought with my self-control not to slam into her.

"F-four d-days." She was keening now.

"So," I plowed on, "it's 20 in two days. Agree?" I bit the soft skin of her tit.

"Yes!" she gasped, moaning a little louder now.

My hands on her waist I lifted her off of me, slipping my moist cock out. She clung to me in trembling protests.

I knelt on the bed and lay her down on her back on the mattress. I put my hand under her and pulled her towards me, legs opened wide.

"Bend your elbows," I grunted. "Support your weight."

I leaned forward lifting her lower body. I plunged my cock so fucking deep inside her and with so much force the bedframe rocked. I shoved repeatedly and pressed down on her engorged clit until she was moaning and gasping, climaxing all around me.

_Twenty-one._

I withdrew, spreading her legs wider. I shifted on top of her and pumped half a dozen times in rapid succession, banging her hot button like I wanted to. She arched her back, raking her fingernails down my ribcage as she reached her second climax, screaming my fucking name.

"22," I breathed out harshly. I clenched my jaw, shoved one last time and fucking saw stars while I convulsed inside her.

"What did you say?" she whispered, when her breathing calmed down 10 minutes later. I slowly raised myself between her bent knees, my eyes drawn to her pink flesh. I touched a swollen lip. She moaned, squirming. I licked my lips.

With a groan, I lowered my head between her legs, filling my senses with her essence. She gripped my hair, slowing the pressure and I eased the movement of my tongue. She was still too sensitive, too raw. I took care of her, gently bringing her to a mindless keening again.

_Twenty-fucking-three._

* * *

My phone beeped 15 minutes later. I was sitting up, resting against the headboard.

I looked at Bella, on her back limp and boneless, her breathing still unsteady. She was staring at the skies above, a little smile on her lips. The gazebo's roof was screened and crisscrossed with wood and metal.

"Alice," I told her quietly. "She'll be here in an hour and a half."

I placed my hand under her back and lifted her gently to a sitting position. I helped her adjust her clothes. Her skin was hot, her face becomingly flushed. I stroked her hair away from her face.

"Come on, baby," I whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek. We left the gazebo.


	17. Nymph

**Stephenie Meyer **owns Twilight.

**Chapter17/Nymph**

I went to Carlisle's study on the ground floor and checked the clock on the mantel.

Bella was asleep so I decided to call my mother.

She answered on the fourth ring. I apologized for interrupting her supper.

"Is Dad home?" I asked her, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"No, honey, he's still at the hospital. How are you and the rest of my brood?" she asked affectionately.

I smiled at her use of word.

"Alice is getting ready for the term."

Her school calendar was ahead of everyone else.

"How's Bella?"

"She's sleeping," I said quietly, not surprised that she knew her name.

"Mom," I blurted out, unable to hold it anymore. "I think she's schizophrenic."

There was a long pause from the other end of the line.

"Do you want me to go there," she asked after awhile. She was calm, her voice neutral. I smiled a little.

She was Mom the psychiatrist now.

"Not yet, Mom," I replied with a deep sigh.

"Have you contacted her parents?"

"I will do that soon."

"Edward …"

"I know, Mom."

Silence.

"Make sure she is taking her meds regularly," she said firmly.

She left it unsaid, but I could hear her warning me of the possibilities of self-destructive behavior if Bella stops her medication.

"I will," I promised her.

In my mind, Bella's icy brown eyes stared back at me, the same flat, expressionless gaze she gave me at the airport two days ago. What if she relapsed?

What would I do? What _could_ I do?

"Oh, honey …" No more the doctor, she was simply Mom again. "Are you sure?"

"I love her," I said without any more elaboration.

Noises in the background, then Mom's "your father is here. Do you want to talk to him?"

"No, Mom. Not right now. Tell him we're okay here."

We said our goodbyes.

I sat in my father's chair for a long time.

* * *

I stirred when I heard Jasper's jeep drive up. I must have been sitting, motionless, for close to an hour. I left the study to greet them in the living room.

"Hi. We're early. Where's Bella?" my sister said as soon as she saw me.

I told her I would wake her up and be ready in half an hour.

I also asked her to use either my credit card or hers and not let Bella use her own.

I didn't want her to be traceable. Knowing that she was somewhere in Illinois was something. That she was shopping at the mile was another thing.

We drove to the strip of boutique stores in two separate vehicles. I took my Volvo simply because I wanted more time alone with Bella.

She had woken up fresh and happy and I was glad that she was excited about going out.

Alice was in her element and as promised, she was very professional and efficient about this routine. She wasted no time and in 30 minutes, Jasper and I were waiting just outside the boutique door.

The sun was still out, bright and hot but the wind had picked up and it was chilly. Chicago weather could never be predicted, many have tried. Hot one second, blowing cold the next.

"You better show yourself in public, pretty boy. Alice and I, even Rosalie and especially Emmett are not your public image consultants. We can't answer all their questions about where the hell you are," Jasper said without preamble.

I shrugged, uncaring. "Tell them nothing."

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Jasper muttered.

I shrugged again. Truth was, half of the time I had no fucking idea what I was going to do next.

"You don't even know if she's crazy," he said under his breath. But I heard him.

We were two volatile creatures. I was known to overreact and he was slow to anger but angry he could be.

We had avoided scuffles since we were nine years old and that was only because he made Alice cry and as her big brother, it was my duty to punch him in his nose.

This time it was different.

I moved too sudden, too unexpectedly he didn't have time for evasion.

I pulled him to the side away from the shop windows and slammed his body against the concrete wall of the building.

"That will be the last time you will say that word about Bella," I said softly, deadly calm. "Do you understand me, Jasper?"

He glared at me for a second and then he nodded once. I let him go and turned away, digging my hand in my hair.

"You remember when we were kids," he said suddenly behind me.

I walked near the windows again to see where Bella was. I couldn't see her inside, must be in the fitting room.

Jasper was now standing by my side again, all aggression gone.

"When you were obsessed with superheroes and epic cosmic wars," he mused.

"You have me confused with Emmett," I said mildly.

"He's a fanatic but you're different, Edward," he said seriously.

I turned to him, crossing my arms over my chest. The weather was getting fucking cold.

"You have superhero complex," Jasper muttered.

I lifted a brow at him, my stance ridiculing his statement. "No such thing as a 'superhero' complex."

"Whatever, bro," he said dismissively.

"And besides, a hero syndrome has a negative connotation." I persisted.

"Yeah, you should know," the prick said.

Jasper turned serious again. "You've always been that way. You want to save everyone."

I didn't say a word this time.

"Emmett is just built like Iron Man with skin, but you …" He paused, turning to look in the shop windows, also looking for Bella. "You have the psyche of Superman, Batman and Wolverine combined."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Isolated yet saving humankind; brooding, angst-driven but still the protector of the weak; and the ultimate survivor – you are self-healing. No one can touch you." He ticked off the three descriptions without looking at me.

I smirked. "Are you going to tell me next that you've loved me all your life?"

Jasper sighed and turned to look at me. "I'm just saying ..."

I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

"Bella will get better," I told him finally. "This is not something I could walk away from, Jasper. I'm incapable of doing that."

He nodded. After a moment, he mumbled, "I'm sorry." He was apologizing for his "crazy" comment earlier. I lightly punched his arm and didn't say anything anymore.

The girls left the store and we strolled to the next one. Bella looked relaxed. Smiling, she kissed me on the cheek when she saw me outside waiting. I carried her loot for her. She told me that Alice bought her mostly dresses, noting that Bella was more comfortable in skirts. The weather was not exactly perfect for sundresses, my sister quipped, listening to our conversation, but they purchased clothes with the city's climate-appropriate fabric. "We need jackets and warmer clothing because this is Chicago," Alice informed her.

The next boutique was a lingerie specialty store. The girls went inside. Jasper and I exchanged leers and followed them in.

I kept my distance from Bella. Her face flushed when she realized we were in the store with them. I sat on the sofa instead and flipped through the shop's brochures.

Jasper was nowhere to be seen, undoubtedly in the kinky section of the store.

One hour later we entered the third and last shop. Between them, they had accumulated 18 paper bags.

"Edward, I told Bella we'll have dinner at Dad's favorite place," my sister said. It was just around the corner. My brother and Rosalie would be joining us there.

I took Bella's arm and hooked it inside mine. We walked silently to Marchianos.

We had a big table in a semi-secluded corner of the popular restaurant.

Emmett and Rosalie have not yet arrived.

Bella was quiet but her smooth face was serene.

She told me my sister had good tastes and that she was more than happy to let her select her clothes. She showed me one of the purchases and it was a button-front cotton dress.

I saw Alice noting my focused stare on the bodice of the dress and she smirked.

I snickered right back at her, but my eyes silently thanked her for choosing the front-accessible style. My sister was aware that I was a breast man.

Bella surprised me, and Jasper, when she turned to him.

"How did you meet Edward?" She looked genuinely curious.

"Well, now …" Jasper began, speaking with an exaggerated Texas drawl. Alice giggled. "It was in first grade. We were enemies."

"Ah no, that's not right. It was pre-school, Bella," I said, smirking. "He was crying because a little girl stole his weeny lunchie box and all he had left was a mini chocolate bar."

Alice laughed. She had heard this story a thousand times.

"What happened?" Bella was giving Jasper sympathetic looks.

"I took his chocolates," I said dryly.

"You -" this from Bella.

Jasper was glowering at me now. "She didn't steal my lunch. She tricked me into giving it to her." He was gritting his teeth.

"So here was this skinny kid bawling. I took pity on him and grabbed his lunch box from Big Bertha and gave it back to him. I kept the chocolate of course," I said, snickering back at Jasper.

Alice continued with other Edward-Jasper stories, making Bella laugh and Jasper squirming in embarrassment.

The Hales, Jasper and Rosalie, went to the same school with both Alice and me. We had been friends since we were six years old, the prick and I. We remained friends even after we left to live in England.

During one of Jasper's visits to London one summer, he and Alice fell in love. She was 15 and he was 16 when they officially became a couple. He was a constant visitor then. Jasper's family was from Texas but his parents moved to Chicago when he was two years old.

We were almost finished with appetizers when Emmett and Rosalie finally got here.

My brother, as expected, asked for one of the Italian cooks and discussed the menu choices, showing off to Bella. Rosalie was her usual aloof, bored self.

"What did you order, Bella?"

"I haven't decided yet," she said quietly.

This was a signal for Emmett to launch into the merits of each dish listed on the menu, starting with the seafood.

I was glad Emmett and Bella were getting along, that they had cooking in common.

I observed the Hales.

Jasper was just being himself. I was not really surprised that he was wary of Bella. He was protective of Alice and in his own way, of me too.

Now, Rosalie … I examined her face with her signature detached expression.

She was a question mark. I wasn't that much interested in her or in what she was thinking or where she had been. I didn't think she would purposely harm Bella. But she was a tough nut to crack and frankly, who would bother. Oh, yeah. Emmett. I snorted to myself.

Alice and Emmett took over the table conversation. We were the silent trio usually – Rosalie, Jasper and me. And now there was Bella too.

"We'll go to a club, Bella. Would you come with us?" Emmett asked her three hours later.

I felt her glance at me but I was looking at my brother. "54?" I said. My brother nodded. I shrugged and squeezed Bella's hand. The 54 Bar was a semi-private bar, not much of a crowd there and not chaotic. I assured Bella and she relaxed a little.

Jasper and I took Bella's and Alice's boutique bags to our own respective vehicles and drove to the outer side of the mile. This was a more subdued area. Establishments located here were hidden and discreet.

The crowd in 54 was mostly Emmett's and Rosalie's. They socialized while Jasper, Alice, Bella and I just lounged in our corner and passed the time. My arms were around Bella. She was not exactly relaxed but not too tense either.

After one hour I decided we had enough of the noise and lights.

"We're out," I told Jasper. I didn't waste time looking for Emmett.

Alice hugged Bella and the sight of the two of them showing obvious affection for each other warmed my heart. I kissed my sister's cheek and we left the club.

* * *

We were quiet during the short drive.

I took all her shopping bags to our room and left her there to give her some time alone. I checked the security of the house and went upstairs.

Bella was lying down on her side on the bed, her hands tucked against her cheek.

She smiled at me when I entered the room. I bent down and kissed her forehead and I went to the bathroom.

I filled the tub with hot water and reentered the room. I knelt down beside the bed.

"Bath with me," I said softly, stroking her hair. She nodded and she sat up. I took her small hand.

Bella stood motionless beside the tub, steam rising from the hot water.

I waited for her to unclothe herself but when she didn't move I gently unzipped the back of her dress and let it slide down her body.

She stepped out of it but she stayed still, in her undies. She was looking down at the blue bath water.

Slowly, I unclasped her bra and slid it down her arms. Her panties came next.

When she was nude, I paused, looking at her transfixed face. I was about to change my mind and take her to bed when she finally stirred.

She walked over to the tub and slowly sat down in the swirling water, her arms around her bent knees.

There was something about the water that had her mesmerized; her eyes trapped by the sparkling surface of the water as if she was under a spell.

I removed my t-shirt, jeans and boxers, and carefully joined her in the tub. I sat on my end watching her, captivated by the myriad of expressions crossing her alluring face.

She raised her head to look at me and I stopped breathing when I saw her eyes.

They were clear and bright, like a bulb was lighting it from within. Her breathing was slow, soothing me.

I let out a short breath when she moved towards me, gracefully gliding under the water.

She sat on my legs, her arms by her side. My eyes of its own volition dropped to her silky breasts, the drops of water making her skin glisten in the light.

I couldn't move.

I could only stare in her gleaming enigmatic eyes.

She leaned into me and breathed in my ear, sliding her smooth cheek against my stubbly jaw. I could hear my breath coming out in raspy gasps. All my muscles tightened.

She was humming, the sound of her voice lilting. She softly blew warm air against the side of my face. I shivered.

"Garlands of flowers on her head … her only clothes," she whispered in my tingling ear.

I sucked in a breath and I felt dizzy enveloped in her erotic scent.

"She doesn't need them … in the water," she breathed.

She leaned closer, the tips of her erect nipples brushing against my chest. I shuddered, biting my lower lip.

"Immortals ..." I felt her lips touch my earlobe, sliding her lips softly around the perimeter. "We, of the springs, lakes and the sea …"

My hands itched, wanting to touch her soft porcelain skin, to see if she was still real.

"We bathe, you watch," she sighed, fluttering warm breath against my cheek. "In the middle of the night ..." Her lips brushed my cheek, as light as air.

"Besotted and helpless, you watch us." I closed my eyes, breathing heavily. "You want us ..." She blew air in my ear so faint I shook.

I exhaled sharply.

"And crave us," she murmured under her breath, her lips touching my warm skin.

Like a drowning man, I absorbed her exquisite scent and her goddess voice as if they were the oxygen I needed to live.

"Offer me your sacrifice," she hummed in my ear. "Divinities of nature."

I groaned when she flicked her tongue against my earlobe.

"Drink me," she crooned, gracefully sitting back on my legs, her face glowing.

"And I am yours," she whispered. Her magical eyes were golden bronze instead of brown.

We stared at each other for a long, long time.

My heart was pounding, my mouth dry. I murmured her name and I shuddered at the sound of my pleading tone. I said her name again, like a prayer.

I slowly reached out my hands and caressed her arms and down her thighs under the water.

"I want you," I groaned.

Her beautiful mouth trembled but she didn't say anything. Her breathing had accelerated.

Her eyes on me, she slowly moved her arms and my skin jumped when I felt her small hands touch my erection under the water.

My eyes rolled back in my head; my shaft twitched and jerked. I clenched my jaw hard. I focused my eyes on her, my blood boiling with lust.

I lifted her from the tub and stepped out.

I cupped her face and kissed her with all of my pent up passion.

My need was so fucking huge that I had to stop and breathe. I quickly dried her off and took her hand.

There were a thousand things I wanted to ask her, wanted to know. But all this could wait.

I sat her on the side of the bed and I fell to my knees between her legs. I released her hair from its knot and watched it cascade down her back and shoulders.

I raised her hands to my mouth and kissed each of her tiny fingers.

She sucked in her breath.

We were gazing into each other's eyes when I gently lifted her legs around my back, sliding her to the very edge of the bed.

I slowly penetrated.

She gasped, I groaned.

Once inside her, I put my arms around her in a tight embrace, my forehead on her shoulder.

"I want to be deep within you," I whispered brokenly against her neck. "In your very soul." And as I began to move, I was.


	18. Nymph Part2

Twilight by** Stephenie Meyer **was first published in 2005.

**Chapter18/Nymph Part2**

For once I was up before her.

I took a peek at the alarm clock. It was 5:30am.

My eyes shifted back to the girl sleeping beside me. She always sleeps on her stomach, her face turned to the side.

Many times, when I would wake up in the middle of the night, I would carefully roll her body so she would be lying on her back or on her side. I did that now, slowly turning her upper torso on her side. I wanted her to wake up facing me.

I gently brushed the tip of my index finger to her delicate eyebrow. I pressed closer and kissed her forehead.

I watched her pale face closely. I tried to recall bits of the disturbing dream, or nightmare, I had last night.

It was of a young woman suspended on what looked like grayish clouds at first but the reflection of the shadowy, eerie faces in the dark beneath her revealed that she was floating on water. Her features were vague and indistinct but I remember her long sable hair, white and yellow little flowers woven around and through the strands. She had a diaphanous white gown and her hands were clasped above her heart.

Her silent, dead heart.

I woke up abruptly and despite the coolness in the room, I was drenched in sweat.

That was three hours ago.

I managed to get back to sleep but it was restless, plagued by dream after shallow dream.

With a shaky hand, I gently stroked her hair away from her face. Something had happened to her last night, in the tub. She had looked lovely but …

She had also looked displaced.

I suddenly remembered the awful, terrible feeling I had after my dream when I was perched too near my emotional and psychological precipice again, and where I was holding on to her desperately.

Every day I could feel her slipping from my grasp and there was nothing that I, or anyone, could do about it.

I felt like yelling or charging forward and do … what?

I took a long breath.

That was the fucking problem.

I didn't _know_.

And the truth was I didn't want to know.

I was reluctant to confirm what the situation was. I had long since resigned myself to the fact that when it comes to Bella, avoidance was the preferred defense tactic for me. It was not a denial per se, but if I could, I would downplay the seriousness of it all. And the operative word here was _if_ I could.

I need a spike in my blood. I put on a t-shirt and sweatpants and went downstairs to the kitchen for a brew.

Much too early for brooding without a caffeine and sugar boost. Thankfully, Mrs. Cope was not here yet and as much as I appreciate the cheery woman, I prefer silence right now.

I carried two steaming mugs of coffee back upstairs. I had the door to my room partly opened when I realized I didn't even know if Bella takes coffee.

I had never seen her drink one. Coffee was a stimulant. I should have brought her hot milk instead.

But she was awake. Bella, who I noticed was now wearing one of my shirts, was sitting up in bed. She smiled at me when I entered, reaching out a hand for her mug.

I kissed the top of her head, carefully handed her the hot cup and sat beside her, my back against the headboard. She leaned on my leg and sipped her coffee.

She wrinkled her nose at it but she continued to drink.

Perhaps because it was not yet 7am, but her first words completely startled me. I nearly spilled half the contents of my mug.

"Alice said she'd take me to her gynecologist," she said out of nowhere.

I took a moment to compose myself. "That's a good idea," I murmured. "Do you want to go?" I watched, slightly amused, as her neck and face splashed with pink.

She nodded.

"Alright." It was the only thing I could say.

She sighed, placing her mug on the bedside table. She scooted near me, resting her head against my arm.

"I'm already on the pill," she whispered, catching me by surprise again. "I take it to regulate my um, cycle," she explained quietly, one of her fingers was tracing small circles on my thigh.

I had never indulged in sexual fantasies because why fantasize if you could do it for real. But the thought of Bella and my bare skin …

I shuddered. Totally in the realm of fantasy.

I placed my mug beside hers on the table and I put my arm around her shoulder.

She seemed tense. She was quiet for a moment.

I waited patiently for her to continue. Then she took a deep breath. "We can … I mean, you can choose not to – to use -"

"I'd like that, Bella," I cut in, sliding my hand down her back to press her closer against me.

Listening to her talking of contraceptives was a fucking turn on. My lips curled in self-mockery. Everything about her was a temptation.

"Would it be too different?" she asked softly.

Her small hand went to my chest -right on the spot where she would know I was not as calm as I appeared to be. My heart was throbbing faster than usual.

"Very," I murmured.

I had never gone _au natural_ before.

It shouldn't be surprising since I had never been in a relationship before either.

Having doctors as parents meant the sex education started earlier than traditionally required and it made us all overly cautious.

Bella made a half-sigh, half-moan sound. She looked up, blinking her clear brown eyes at me.

I felt her hand slowly caressing the back of my neck. I suppressed a groan.

I wanted her naked. Now. And I also wanted to give her everything.

Her life should have been full, I thought with a frown. She should have everything she had ever wanted and some she didn't think she wanted but have anyway.

"Do you like it here, Bella?" We had yet to discuss what we would do and as for college, I was still undecided. It was somehow easier to focus on her.

"Yeah," she replied quietly.

"You don't miss London or anyone, at all?"

"No."

It seemed the right time to bring up Angela again. I had made a promise to delay contacting her aunt but her friend was a different thing. She was more middle ground and not likely to demand more information. In truth, I wasn't too eager or ready to face her family.

"I have to call Angela this morning, Bella. Do you mind if I talk to her alone?"

She hesitated for a few seconds. I leaned toward her, trying to catch her eyes but she twisted around and climbed over me instead. She sat on my legs so we were eye to eye.

"You said I could stay with you," she said, worriedly chewing on her bottom lip.

"You will, Bella," I said, watching curiously as she continued to be nervous.

"Even if sometimes -" She stopped, averting her eyes. Her face was impossibly whiter.

I stayed still, silent and waiting. I wanted to reach out and pat her hand comfortingly or something but I just watched her.

"Even if I'm not myself?" she whispered, covering her face with her small hands this time, breathing raggedly.

"Yes," I said softly.

For a moment, I thought she would cry. She still had her face covered. I wanted to see her eyes and what she was trying to hide from me. I reached out and peeled her hands away from her face.

She was looking down, twisting the ends of her shirt. Finally, her eyes misty and sad, she looked up.

"What if they tell you that I _am_ crazy?" she asked in a shaky voice.

I took one of her hands and lightly squeezed it for emphasis. "Then I'm going to deal with it."

"Renee dealt with it by leaving me," she said in a tortured exhale, her cheeks flushing in agitation. I opened my mouth to reply but she quickly implored. "You won't leave me, Edward? You said you wouldn't. You said I have y-you."

Her words gave me that familiar gut-punched feeling when I thought of what could happen, if the possibility that I would lose her was staring me right in the face.

Bella didn't wait for my reply. She grabbed my face and kissed me hard, her tongue darting inside my mouth.

I returned her kiss with equal urgency, my hands gripping her waist and sliding her forward until she was straddling my hip. She gasped, opening her eyes. Biting her bottom lip, she eased back and eyed my bulge. She slowly untied the drawstrings of my sweatpants.

I watched her every little move. She closed her eyes, her left hand sliding under my sweatpants to find me. I stifled a groan when her warm, small hand encircled my erection. She took me out, pulsing in her hand, and her eyes fluttered open. I made a hissing sound when she ran her hand the length of me.

"When you're inside me," she whispered, her hand was trembling. "It makes me feel as if I own you." One tear rolled down her cheek. Her lips parted but no words came out. She took a deep breath. "I f-feel like I can hold you … forever."

She looked at me and I looked at her. I felt her warm hand tightening around my cock. "You tell me I'm yours," she murmured. She leaned and bit my lower lip, took it between her teeth and pulled. I winced.

She released a little sigh, stroking my erection once, twice. I gritted my teeth, fucking forcing my cock in check.

"You belong to me too, Edward," she said quietly but her breathing had accelerated. She removed her tormenting hand and let me go.

I wanted to consume her. To use her. To love her.

Bella grasped the front of my shirt and pulled me along with her as she lay down on her back, with me on top of her. She pulled my shirt off of me, running her hands on my bare chest. She tugged my sweatpants and slid it down my hips. I reared up and pushed it off.

When I turned back to her, she had removed my oversized shirt and was about to pull her panties when I stopped her.

I lay down and shifted her body so she was now on top of me. We kissed slowly and with tender passion.

"Let me," I said throatily, stripping away the cotton down to her ankles.

She sat up and maneuvered herself so she was sitting on my erection. I placed my hands on her hips and looked up at her beautiful face – my eyes briefly stopping midway to adoringly ogle her equally beautiful tits.

I quirked a brow at her. "Well?" I said, giving her my lopsided smile. "Ride me."

Brown eyes licked my skin, from my face to my abdomen. I shuddered. She was looking down at me as if she wanted to fucking devour me whole.

My hand caressed her smooth thigh and up her flat tummy. I cupped the full swell of her breast, rolling a puffy nipple between my forefinger and middle finger. She moaned, her tongue running along her bottom lip. I gripped her hip and coaxed her to kneel astride me. I almost bit my tongue off when she reached for my swollen cock. As if she had done it a thousand times she raised herself and slowly, inch by throbbing inch, inserted me inside her.

My eyes rolled back in my head when I felt her warm, tight, moist flesh around my bare cock. I flexed at the absolute naked sensation of stretching her most intimate muscles.

_Oh god. _I could scarcely breathe.

_I've died and gone to _Fuck _heaven._

She leaned forward and took control. She didn't just push in and out, she pivoted her hips trying different angles of penetration. I knew exactly when I was hitting her hot spot for she would keen and bite her bottom lip in a thoroughly erotic way.

I watched my big hands mold her pretty tits, palming her distended nipples, and I watched my cock disappearing into her again and again. I cupped her butt and pressed her down harder on me. My heart pounding, I felt my balls begin to tighten, fucking getting ready to explode.

"Bella!" I growled, clenching my jaw.

She tightened her grip around me, sensing my slipping control. _How the hell did she do that?_

But I couldn't wait anymore. I moved my hand to the front and rubbed her exposed clit fast and hard. She emitted her sexy keening sound and I knew she was coming. I slammed into her and gave her everything I had.

And I stared awestruck, as her back stiffened, her thighs trembling. Her head fell back and her body shook with multiple spasms.

I sat up and hugged her, gently pushing her head on my shoulder. When she was finally limp, I carefully lay us back down on our sides. I kissed her mouth lightly, my hand stroking her smooth, sweaty back. She was staring at me, still dazed, her breathing still labored.

"W.O.W." she mouthed, licking her lips.

I smiled crookedly at her.

It was difficult to put the right words for this. I wanted to tell her I love her but it was too soon, too overwhelming. This was everything I had imagined love to be.

We lay quiet for a long time.


	19. Confirmation

**Stephenie Meyer **said she liked the movie, Twilight, despite the changes in scenes (in favor of cinematic impact).

**Chapter19/Confirmation**

"Do you have plans for today?" My sister asked Bella as soon as we sat down for breakfast.

Bella looked at me and I shrugged. I leaned towards her and kissed her cheek.

"Good," she said. "Rosalie and I were supposed to have our R.Y.S. this morning but she backed out. Let's go together, Bella."

I asked her what she was talking about, noting Bella's confused look.

"Relaxation, Yoga and Spa," Alice explained. "It would be great. We'll have five hours of pampering. Say yes! Bella."

"Oh. Okay. Sure," she said, smiling at my sister. She turned to me, "and what will you do?"

"I'll be lonely," I replied, sighing with exaggeration.

"You and Jasper will have lunch in the same building. It's all arranged," Alice informed me.

* * *

After breakfast, I excused myself to go to my father's study.

Bella gave me Angela's number and I had to recharge her mobile first to get it. There were dozens of missed calls on her unit but she shook her head when I asked her if she wanted to return these calls.

I settled myself in my father's chair and dialed Angela's number. I knew practically nothing of her friend, except some gratitude I felt for the unknown girl for being a friend to Bella.

After three rings, a female voice answered.

"Am I speaking to Angela Weber?"

"Yes, who is this?" she replied in a polite tone. I was mildly surprised that she has an American accent.

"My name is Edward Cullen from Chicago. Your friend, Bella, is with my family here," I said, my voice calm.

"Is she okay?" she asked at once. Then, "is she there with you? Can I talk to her?"

"Don't worry. She's here with my brother and my sister."

"I'd like to talk to her," she repeated. I did not detect suspicion in her tone but it was understandable that she wanted to speak to Bella directly.

"Bella will call you again soon. Right now I'd like to talk to you if that's alright with you," I said carefully.

"How did you meet her?"

I told her about our first meeting but I omitted the more personal details, of course. I only informed her that Bella was safe and to assure her that she was not harmed and would not be harmed in any way.

"I'd like to know something, Angela," I asked her softly. "Bella told me that she was hospitalized months ago. She wouldn't tell me why."

I heard a rush of breath. She was quiet for a long time before finally saying, "Did she try to hurt herself?"

I quickly negated that and she sighed in relief.

She asked me next if I had witnessed any disturbing behavior.

I paused, considering her question. Should I tell her about the airport incident when she froze on me?

"What sort of disturbing behavior?" I questioned her cautiously instead.

"Brief episodes when she will … not respond immediately."

"Like in a stupor?" I said.

"Did it happen to her?"

"Once," I told her.

I felt my blood freezing.

_Don't say it, Angela. Don't fucking say it!_

"You've seen her medications?"

I confirmed to her that I had, indeed, seen her medicines.

"What are they for?" I clenched my jaw, hard.

It was strange because when I heard her answer, her voice sounded like it was coming from a tunnel and it took a few seconds to reach my ears. The word, when she said it, echoed in my brain.

"Schizophrenia," she said, by now sounding more sad than worried.

"Did they let her out or did she leave the hospital without telling anyone?"

"She has already been discharged when she left," she said. She also confirmed what Bella told me earlier, that she had been confined seven months ago.

"Where did she go after she was released?"

"Her aunt's home."

"And?"

"I've never seen her act that way before," Angela continued softly.

"Tell me," I encouraged her.

"Bella was … _is_ … mostly normal. But when she left the hospital she has become more obsessive than usual and she'd forget to do things. She's also been talking more about -" She cut herself off.

_Suicide_, I silently continued for her.

"I have to tell her aunt," Angela said, regaining her composure. "Renee, her mom, is here too."

"That will be the best thing to do," I murmured.

"What will I tell her?" she suddenly asked, uncertain. "Will you call her too?" she almost pleaded that.

"Yeah, I will," I assured her.

I could hear her starting to relax a bit, calmed by our talk. She said she would inform Bella's aunt of my call and that she should expect another call soon, also from me.

"Please," she paused, obviously choosing her words carefully. "Take care of Bella. She's … she's not well."

I wasn't sure if she was saying it with resignation or regret. But I gave her my word that I would look after her friend.

We exchanged more pertinent information such as contacts and addresses.

Numbed, I put the receiver back on its resting place.

I looked at the clock on the mantel. It would be 5pm in London. I wanted to call Esme.

I picked up the phone again to call her but I quickly put the receiver down. There would be time for that later.

I went back to my room. Bella was sitting on the couch, waiting for me. I smiled at her and gave her a brief hug.

"What did she say?" she asked me quietly.

I dropped a kiss on the top of her head and recounted to her an abridged version of our conversation. I shed my sweatpants and changed into jeans and a gray t-shirt. I turned back to her.

Bella was fidgeting anxiously with the hem of her yellow skirt. I knelt down in front of her and gently cupped her chin in my hand.

"It will be alright, Bella."

Her breathing had become shallow, obviously nervous. Perhaps we could stay here in the house or even in our room all day. We didn't need to go out.

I leaned down and kissed her, trying to ease her tension. She opened her mouth and I swept my tongue over her bottom lip. I breathed in her strawberry scent. Her arms went around my neck and we deepened the slow, languid kiss.

I pulled away a bit. "Do you still want to go with Alice?"

"Yeah, I think so," she whispered.

"A little curious about this R.Y.S. thing?" I teased.

I caught her lips again. I couldn't fucking help myself. Her lips were soft and perfect.

Five minutes later, I was ready to cancel the spa-yoga date but Alice was ringing my phone.

Bella decided that she would go and that was that.

Alice rode in the Volvo with us. She would meet Jasper later after the spa treatment.

"What will you do for five hours?" I asked, amazed.

Alice muttered "men" and enumerated quite a list of activities, all sounding like torture to me. Body scrubs, body wraps, luxury bath, aromatherapy massage, reflexology and meditative relaxation.

"And then mud facials, seaweed body and facial massage, herbal steam bath …" She went on and on.

I glanced at Bella and her expression almost made me laugh out loud. I reached out and held her small hand reassuringly.

She still had the chagrined expression on her face when we got to the therapy chambers. She gave the vine-covered wood double doors a dubious look.

She also appeared ready to run from the place. While Alice was talking with the receptionists, I pulled Bella to the side.

"It's Alice," I told her simply. "She's my only sister and you can tell her anything."

"What's a chakra-balancing massage?" she whispered in a panicked voice.

I laughed and kissed both of her cheeks. I watched her enter the imposing doors with stiff shoulders as if going in as a sacrificial lamb. I shook my head, amused.

* * *

I located Jasper immediately as soon as I entered the French gypsy-themed restaurant on the ground floor.

Jasper, predictably, was annoyed. He was scowling at the hippie-gypsy clothed servers.

"Let's ditch this place while we're sober," he muttered.

"I've tolerated far worse than this," I said dryly.

Thankfully, we didn't need to order from the strange menu. My sister took care of that. We were silent until the food arrived.

"What will you do if you were me?" I asked, catching him off guard.

"Fuck everyone who'd fuck with me, bro," he said immediately.

I snorted at him. "Done. What else?"

"Stop ignoring the warning signs."

"It's like watching a train wreck in slow motion," I said quietly.

"So you weren't completely oblivious."

"I tried hard enough," I said, twisting my mouth in a sardonic smile. "And just to be clear, I'm the train wreck."

"Do you really think you have the real thing?" he said thoughtfully.

"She fills my heart," I answered, looking him in the eye. "It would be a very sad world without her."

"You're such a girl," he mumbled, awkward with the turn of the conversation.

"You asked me," I reminded him.

He suddenly laughed. "You didn't think this will happen to you, eh?"

I shrugged.

"So, what now, pretty boy?"

"I don't know," I said with a sigh.

"Five days later and you're still clueless," he mocked.

"Wouldn't surprise me if five years from now, I'd still be ignorant of the ways of men in love with women," I predicted.

Jasper's mouth fell open. "Bro, you said five years."

And I did. Five days, five years, 50 years. I would go to considerable lengths to have years with Bella not just a week or a month.

"I don't get it. One day you're Edward Cullen and now you're _this_."

"What's so strange about it? You have Alice."

"Yeah, but I've known her for years. It was a gradual thing with us not a bolt of lightning," Jasper said, scratching his chin.

Ahh, here we go again, I thought with amusement. Love-at-fucking-first-sight. It was getting real tiring being condescended to just because you fell like a ton as love-struck couples do in fiction, or in the movies, or those fabricated romances in the tabloids.

"Don't fucking hit me and I'm not the only one with this opinion," Jasper said cautiously. "What if you just feel sorry for her?"

I fisted my right hand, despite his disclaimer. "You don't know and you have no idea," I scoffed.

"Point taken, bro, but stop being too defensive!" he said, eyeing my fist.

"If you say I'm a fucking raging testosterone colony and she's this month's flavor," I ground out. "I'm going to correct that nose I damaged nine years ago."

Jasper instinctively clutched his nose. "There's nothing wrong with _my_ nose and you didn't _hit_ me hard that time," he spat.

"You bled like a pig," I told him with a snort.

"Have you seen a pig bleed?" He lifted a brow.

"Yeah, you," I snapped.

Jasper dropped his fork with a clang on his half-empty plate.

"This is why I hate Mediterranean food. Too much garlic and yogurt," he said, annoyed again. "I wish I had oily meat on oily bread."

And I was fucking wishing I was with Bella right now. It was simple longing and need.

I glanced at my watch and groaned inwardly.

Three more hours to go. I realized that this was the first time in five days that I had gone for more than an hour without Bella beside me or near me, excluding periods when she was asleep.

Jasper, who had been lounging lazily in his chair, suddenly sat up with surprise.

"Tanya," he muttered with a nod in the direction behind me.

Aw, fuck me.


	20. Tanya

**Stephenie Meyer's** Twilight.

**Chapter20/Tanya**

Tanya, with Emmett and Rosalie in tow, strolled casually inside and all three were heading towards our table.

One of the restaurant attendants, anticipating additional customers, hastily dragged a second table to make room for the newcomers.

I briefly glanced at her and looked away. I sighed to myself, resigned.

Definitely not what I need right now.

"I'm not stalking you, Edward," Tanya said loftily, sitting down next to me.

Her voice came out a bit too loud, telling me that she was not as composed as she wanted to appear.

I sent her a crooked grin, flicking my hand in her direction in a dismissive manner to annoy her. She huffed and blushed deep red. I smirked.

Emmett was trying to catch my attention but I ignored him. He could have warned me that Tanya was coming with them.

"This is a glorified shack," said Rosalie. She had been disdainfully eyeing the green, red and gold interior.

I decided then and there that I liked this place. It was unique and the garlicky food was excellent.

"Keep your discriminating voice down, Rosie," Tanya softly admonished her friend. "The owner is of genuine gypsy ancestry."

I laughed quietly to myself. This was one of the things I liked about her. She was the only other female who could call Rosalie out.

Both Jasper and Emmett remained quiet, both pretending to be busy with this and that.

The prick finally said: "Well, now. Gotta go." And he lit out, just like that.

Emmett looked as if he wanted to follow him but Rosalie and Tanya already ordered the food.

The girls carried on a conversation that neither Emmett nor I participated in. I probably should have shown some interest, be a gentleman and all, but I wasn't in a fucking mood.

After 45 minutes, Rosalie glared at the silent Emmett, who threw up his hands, still mute. I gave my brother a wicked smile.

"Rosalie wants to argue with me now so we are leaving," Emmett said, rising to his feet and gestured for Rosalie to go.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

This was so typical. The whole lunch had all the hallmark of a conspiracy scheme.

* * *

Tanya suggested that we move outside for al fresco coffee. I shrugged, paid the bill and stood up.

We exited through the glass doors to a small garden and climbed the stairs to the second-level balcony. I politely pulled up a chair for her.

We didn't speak for awhile.

Since I got time to kill I decided to amuse myself. My silent observation of the female in front of me turned speculative.

At 20, Tanya Gregg-Sheaffer was probably one of the most intelligent persons I had ever encountered.

I suppose she had everything, if coming from the perspective of an ambitious preppy. And by everything, I meant brains and stature. Her natural, blue-eyed reddish-blonde beauty was a plus. Her social background was high up but to her credit, she was not a socialite at all although she was undoubtedly the product of generations of debutantes from elite families.

"How're your inferiors at Booth," I asked casually after we ordered our drinks.

"Still my inferiors," she confirmed dryly.

Tanya was in an advanced business course at Chicago Booth. She was accepted not due to her famous last name but because she deserved to be there.

She sighed, feigning boredom. "The idiots think my being there is some kind of salute to American womanhood." She leaned towards me, her red lips forming a seductive smile. "The real fun is not the catfights, but that _this_ buxom blonde will thwart everyone's expectations!"

Unbidden, I suddenly remembered her one extraordinary talent.

_Astonishing elasticity_.

I let out an irritated short breath. That she had quite intentionally redirected my mind to her _bosomy blondeness_ was not coincidence either.

Our drinks arrived. I sipped my coffee, studying the woman over the rim of my cup.

Formidable and deeply intellectual, Esme called her my match in every way. And did I mention Carlisle and her dad, who owned a pharmaceutical company, were close associates?

"Are you happy, Edward?" she asked, quirking a dainty eyebrow at me. "Not influenced by substance or girls, of course."

I ignored the plural "girls" but I did not bother to pretend that I didn't know what or _who_ she was referring to. She was too clever for that.

"Think and believe, Tanya," I said quietly, looking her squarely in the face.

"I see," she murmured, not looking at me now. "Somehow," she continued, "the word 'happy' if describing you, is an understatement. Do you know why?" She threw the question as a challenge.

I merely arched a brow at her.

"There's remoteness and coldness in you and it has made your view of the world either so very bland or ironic, and when something do catch your oh-so-mighty attention, you think them gaudy and tasteless. Difficult to please you, Edward," she said, her eyes bright and glowing. "You have to be in control to be happy. It's very similar to, say, a private corporation and ownership rights. There will be no shareholders in your company, Edward. And if there is a merger, you'll always be the acquiring conglomerate," she finished with a smirk.

"I'm not a complex business problem," I muttered.

I wasn't sure it was flattering to be likened to a company takeover, with yours truly doing the taking over. Corporate giants were considered marauding pirates when buying another company, right? Once they gain possession, they break it up and kick everyone out from the executives to the rank-and-file. It didn't even matter if it was a friendly takeover or a hostile one. The surviving entity was unrecognizable, most of the time.

What did she mean anyway? I destroy the thing I wanted to possess?

"Just because I go to Booth doesn't mean I think in dollar terms all the time," she quipped. Then she drew back, her eyes gleaming.

Hell, she was going to start in on me again about why I was fucking _me_.

"Admit it," she continued haughtily. Her confidence was starting to grate on my nerves. "You're a throwback to the Victorian age," she said, snickering at me when I didn't respond immediately.

I deliberately misunderstood her meaning. "Of course I am," I replied smoothly. "I'm honorable, my moral fiber is unbreakable and I treat women fairly."

Her eyes sparkled. I had a crazy vision that she was pulling off her mental gloves.

"A) You're domineering. You want your woman to be pure and then treat her like a sex kitten!" she said sharply, wagging a red-nailed little finger at me when I opened my mouth to interrupt. It wasn't lost on me that she used the singular noun this time. "B) You're excessively self-involved for obvious reasons," she said.

I settled more comfortably in my chair. I kicked my legs out and relaxed. I let her have her fun.

"You're fully aware of the fact that you don't need to expend too much charm and effort to get what you want. And, finally, my dear Rochester, C) you're totally a Byronic man. Too self-critical, disdainful of whatever privilege you were born into and … always, someone who will do the right thing, in the end," she finished in a somber note.

I heard a roar and a whirr – usual sounds buzzing inside my brain whenever I was having these kinds of conversations with Tanya.

I could indulge her every whim, even now. But it was the scrutiny that I couldn't quite tolerate.

"I sincerely hope you're not implying I treated _you_ unfairly," I remarked.

The irritating woman laughed again.

"Don't quote me on this … but I'm what the women dreamed of in the 1950s of becoming, Edward. I'm not apologizing for that. _And_ you could _never_ treat me badly."

I slumped over my chair, still observing her. She was largely convincing if a bit brazen in her self-portrayal.

I chuckled knowingly at her.

"What?" she said, her voice sounded breathy.

"We used to scream at each other," I said it with a half-smile.

"And?" she asked, suspicious.

"It's the only time you can beat me at anything," I told her softly. "You scream like a banshee, which by the way, is believed to be females."

She didn't speak for five minutes, just looking at me with an odd expression.

"Everything is changing," she whispered, but not too softly that I didn't hear her.

I nodded, running my hand through my unruly hair. And for the first time since I had met her she looked … Crushed.

"No one can fuck like you do, Edward," she muttered.

"You have such a dirty little mouth," I said, surprised at my affectionate tone.

"And who taught me? Who spouts nasty porn once the door's closed?"

"I wait until doors are closed?" I smirked.

"I miss your vulgar and disrespectful mouth, Edward. No one has ever called me 'slut' the way you used to."

I sighed. This trick of hers was _old._

"No one will call you that."

"You did."

"No, Tanya, I didn't."

"You called me 'slut' when you -"

"We were having sex, Tanya! What the hell are you doing?" I harshly interrupted her.

"I don't friggin know, do I?"

"What is it that you want to tell me? Just say it," I said, tired of the whole conversation.

"I miss you."

"You missed my filthy mouth?"

"No! I miss the only man who would dare call me names! And call me out and criticize me to my face!" She was almost yelling. "You treat me like an equal and not a piece of meat," she added more quietly.

She had always reminded me of a panther - fierce, independent and stealthy.

I waited for her to speak again. She had looked away from me after her short outburst.

After a few minutes she turned back to me with a tiny shrug, facing me with determination.

"Do you love her?" she demanded.

I crossed my arms over my chest. I eyed her for a moment then I nodded once.

"I waited for you," she said briskly, leaning forward.

I sighed, my hand messing with my hair in an attempt to avoid comment.

"I think," she continued when I remained silent. I was relieved to hear that she was apparently out of her pique. "I would be joining you for dinner later. Do you mind?"

I frowned, considering the prospect of putting Bella directly in the line of fire that was Tanya. I started to protest but then I realized there was really no point.

"Then we'll expect you later," I murmured.

I was saved from making further comment when my mobile vibrated insistently. It was Alice informing me that she and Bella were done, finally.

Tanya and I said our stiff goodbyes and left the restaurant together, going in different directions.


	21. Trigger

Still** Stephenie Meyer's**.

**Chapter21/Trigger**

I met Jasper on the 32nd floor to pick up the girls.

When I saw Bella, I felt oddly vindicated. This was the woman I loved and I would claim her a million times if I need to. It seemed the only acceptable statement I could think of.

Her face lit up as soon she saw me. She went straight to me and held out her hand.

"Smell it," she said, her eyes shining. I dutifully did as she asked. Her skin had a sweet, luxurious fragrance.

I inhaled deeply and was instantly aroused.

"Do you like it?"

I kissed her hand and since I missed her in the longest five hours of my life, I licked her skin too, to show her just how much I liked her scent.

She smirked quite adoringly at me.

"I see you liked it. Good. Because your sister bought a dozen of these things," she held up a cotton bag. I grinned at her and took the bags – she was carrying three – with me.

"You always smell good to me," I told her honestly, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

She linked arms with me and we joined my sister. She and Jasper were already inside the elevator waiting for us.

Alice had to go to her school to pick up some papers she needed for when her term begins in a few weeks. It was too early to go to our dinner so I asked Bella if she wanted to see the school's art museum.

"Oh, yes," she agreed, glancing around Alice's school. I led her to the gallery.

There were only a few people there for which I was extremely glad. I wanted to spend some quiet time with her.

She held my hand as we walked around the museum. She sighed happily.

"What kind of music do you play?" she asked, turning to me.

"I have an eclectic taste, mostly jazz and classical music," I said, smiling indulgently at her.

"I'd like to hear you play someday," she said shyly.

She was so beautiful I felt that familiar throbbing ache in my chest.

I quickly surveyed the room. It was empty. I pulled her behind a large white column and held her close to me. I could feel the beat of her heart against my own.

I took her face in my hands and lowered my mouth, kissing her face and neck. I heard her sigh against my mouth. I kissed her up to her ear.

"You smell exotic," I murmured. "Is it like this all over?"

She nodded. I groaned.

Maybe we should skip dinner. Her spa and my lunch - I grimaced when I thought of Tanya - was enough socialization for the day.

And as if she knew what I was thinking, my phone came alive.

_Alice_, I thought with resignation.

"We've been summoned," I said wryly.

She reached up and placed a solid kiss on my scruffy chin.

"Then we had better leave. I've come to realize that it's best not to upset Alice's plans," she said quite seriously, but her eyes were merry.

I smirked down at her.

"Welcome to the family," I said, highly amused. She blushed.

As we walked out of the museum, I realized that by anyone's standards it was very early to call what we had a relationship. But this was Bella and me.

It would be very easy to plan my life around her. However it would be too soon to set my plans in motion. I should tell her how I felt about her first.

I tried to ignore the giddy sensation that came with the thought of telling her finally that I was in love with her.

* * *

We went to a little vegetarian restaurant. It seemed that my sister had carefully planned our Friday - the obvious theme being herbal and organic.

Emmett and Rosalie were already there.

We had been chatting and eating for an hour – or rather Alice and Emmett were talking, with Jasper and Rosalie occasionally contributing – when Tanya finally arrived. Heads swiveled as soon she was inside the big room.

She wore a little black dress and high stiletto heeled shoes. Panther incarnate, I thought dryly. Half of the room, mostly men and a few women, followed her long-legged stride to our table.

Bella was holding my hand. She wasn't aware of Tanya yet but when she stood next to me and she leaned down to kiss my cheek, I felt her hand clench mine convulsively.

"My apologies, everyone," Tanya said breezily. She sat down opposite Bella. "Hallo, you must be Bella."

I rolled my eyes at her but I cleared my throat and made the introductions.

"Tanya," Bella said quietly in acknowledgment.

Alice smoothly took over the conversation, to my relief. I didn't think anyone missed the veiled tension around the table.

It was not unusual that Bella was quiet. But her silence now lacked its calming effect on me.

She removed her hand from mine and she seemed to be avoiding looking at me.

I knew for a fact that women tend to view these things badly. Tanya wasn't exactly an ex but she was certainly behaving like one.

I heard Bella release a small sigh and she stood up, mumbling something about going to the wash room. The men stood up as well when she left the table.

"Excuse me," Rosalie murmured, following Bella to the ladies room.

I narrowed my eyes at her. I saw that Alice was also looking in Rosalie's direction.

I suddenly felt impatience.

This shouldn't be complicated at all. It was just fucking dinner with friends and family.

I arched a brow at Alice and she nodded, also excusing herself.

Now it was just the men and Tanya.

"What, should I joined the ladies?" she asked me with all the hauteur of a duchess.

"You can do whatever you want, Tanya," I said softly, but my voice was low and hard.

"Right," she muttered, her cheeks turning pink.

Emmett and Jasper had the sudden urge to talk loudly about the weather, of all damnable things. It was a poor attempt if distraction was their purpose. I shook my head at them.

"Look, I'm not being deliberate!" Tanya hissed at me.

"I'm not arguing with you," I said with a frown.

She looked behind her and at Emmett and Jasper. When she was satisfied she would not be overheard, she said, "I'm sorry."

I nodded, dropping the whole issue – whatever it was.

After 15 minutes, Bella, followed by Alice and Rosalie, returned to the table. If anything, she was more tensed.

I leaned towards her and took her hand, hidden under the table.

"Tired?" I whispered to her.

She looked up and smiled wanly.

I signaled to Alice that we were leaving, but she stalled us further. I waited impatiently for another 10 minutes while the bill was being settled.

We all exchanged polite goodnights and I almost dragged Bella to the exit. I couldn't wait to get her out of there.

Finally, we were inside the Volvo and speeding towards home. It had started to rain.

I kept glancing at Bella's pale face.

I would make it better tonight, I silently promised her.

I was so focused on her that I almost completely missed our turn. I stepped on the break and we stopped abruptly.

I had just put the car in reverse when a speeding mass of metal ploughed straight to my side of the vehicle and I heard a terrible crunching sound. My neck snapped back and hit the headrest; my vision began to blur and to darken fast but I was still cognizant enough to jut my arm out protectively in front of Bella.

The last thing I heard was Bella … screaming … crying ... _Don't die! Edward! Don't die!_ …

No, Bella … I tried to tell her that it would be alright … _Don't cry, Bella._

I heard the pitter-pattering of the rain ... heard her voice fading to a whisper and then it was ... gone.


	22. Crack

Twilight was born in a dream** Stephenie Meyer **had on June 2, 2003.

**Chapter22/Crack**

Throb. Ache.

My brain was in my fucking throat.

If I open my mouth, would it spill out?

Vomit.

I swallowed painfully, throat scratchy. My mouth was dry and I could barely move my parched tongue. Even taking in air in my lungs was a fucking torture.

Was my shoulder blade dislocated? I felt bruised all over my chest.

I tried opening my eyes.

"He's waking up," a voice echoed, right above me, as if floating.

Was I waking up? I saw blackness encroaching, pulling me under.

Eyes.

Open.

Now.

My chest felt tight and my head …

My head had a dozen razor blades imbedded inside it, all twisting at once in different directions.

Bright. Too bright. I shut my eyes. My stomach burning, churning.

"Bro, come on ..." The voice urged.

I opened my mouth but there was no sound. Why couldn't I hear myself? I tried to move my eyelids but the fucking motion was making my whole face throb painfully. I fucking hate this _shit_.

Black spots exploded inside my head.

The next time I heard the voice, it was agitated and nervous.

"He's been out for nine hours," angry voice said. He was a strange sound of mimicking noises inside my black hole.

"Mr. Cullen, the charts say he woke up after five hours," said a softer voice this time.

"Well, he's not _now_," angry voice replied.

I tried turning my head to tell them that I could damn well hear them. Fuck! My brain had doubled in size and was starting to crack my skull wide open.

I lifted my hand. Maybe I could rip open the top of my skull with my own hand. Fucking break it and ease this agonizing hell.

"There, he's awake," soft voice declared. "Open your eyes, son."

I forced one eyelid open. It went half-mass, best fucking thing I could do.

It was not so bright anymore, no glare of light assaulting my eye. I opened both eyes and the movement created a nervy mass after mass of stinging pain shooting straight to the largest fucking brain in the planet.

"Bro," former angry voice said, now sounding relieved.

"W-wat-er," I croaked.

Rush of movements, and thankfully, all outside of my head this time. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe slowly to lessen the pain. A cold moist material was pressed to my lips and I opened my mouth.

Drops of liquid. Very tiny drops of liquid. More, I thought groggily.

"I think we can use the straw," soft voice said. A small plastic tube was inserted in the corner of my mouth and instinctively, I sipped. Ahh. Water.

"That feels good, isn't? Now open your eyes again, son," soft voice insisted. "It's alright. You're okay. You're in a hospital."

Hospital? Fuck.

It was then that other noises penetrated the wretched haze that was my brain. Beeps and what sounded like boiling liquid.

I obliged and opened my eyes. Soft voice was smiling down at me. Blue eyes. The rest of her was green. A looming presence was behind her. I frowned. That hulking black-topped giant looked familiar.

"What's your name, son?" soft voice asked.

Huh?

"Tell us your name, bro." This from former angry voice.

My name? My own name was not important. But I was trying to think of another. I knew this name was enough to shatter my soul and –

"Bella!" I gasped, jerking slightly on the bed.

The sound of her name was ricocheting all over my pulsing brain. Images were starting to flush out.

"Easy, bro, she's okay," said former angry voice.

Emmett?

"Where is she?" I croaked, blinking confusedly.

"We'll get to that, son. Now, just for the record, what is your _name_?" soft voice persisted.

"Edward Cullen," I snapped.

"What day is today?" she checked. "Who is the president of the United States?"

Hell, I was going to be sick.

"I just jarred my brains loose, ma'am, I have no idea what day it is --" I winced. "And the president is Barack Hussein Obama II."

"Good. Do you remember why you're here?" soft voice the nurse, said.

I creased my forehead, ignoring the pain. I couldn't however stop my hands from clutching at my head.

"You have sustained minor head trauma, Mr. Cullen," she explained.

I winced again. But all I could think of was Bella screaming.

I tried to sit up and fell back on the bed almost immediately, gasping. I was sore and stiff all over my upper torso. Did I crack my ribs? I inspected my arms. I had tiny puncture wounds.

"Emmett," I croaked, suddenly drained. "Where's Bella?"

Emmett looked behind him and what he saw there seemed to give him relief.

Dr. Ralph Dalton strolled in.

Of course, I thought, staring blankly at my visitor.

I was in Bernard Mitchell of UCMC, my father's hospital. He had obviously requested a close associate of his, Dr. Dalton or "Doc Ral" to us, to attend to me personally.

"Edward," he said, briskly professional.

Dr. Ral performed the usual pre-neurological eyes, reflexes and balance tests required for head trauma cases.

I automatically replied to all his queries, moved limbs when he asked me to for mobility function, but my head was filled with Bella.

Where the hell was she?

"You're lucky there are no outside head injuries," said Dr. Ral, less the physician now and more my father's friend. He was talking to the nurse, leaving instructions for further post traumatic amnesia tests.

"Do you remember what happened to you, Edward?" the doctor asked me again.

"No." I sighed.

He was telling me that I had been in a car accident and that I needed to stay in the hospital for another day or two, prescribing sleep and more rest. He informed me that the x-ray results did not show any fracture in my skull or cracks in my ribs. My head injury was also considered mild, at this point.

"You have lost consciousness for a full five hours, Edward. You have been in and out of sleep for the last 10 hours," Dr. Ral continued.

I frowned at him. It was difficult concentrating with my aching, thorny brain. Even focusing on what the doctor was telling me was fucking strenuous.

"Dr. Ral," I rasped. "I had someone with me, her name is Bella Swan. I'd like to see her."

There was an exchange of glance between the doctor and Emmett. I tried to keep my eyes open but I was gripped by a terrible panic and my stomach was lurching.

"What is it?" I asked hoarsely.

What was fucking wrong?

"She's here," Dr. Ral informed me. "We had to treat her for post-traumatic stress."

Oh god, Bella. I felt a wave of deep thudding pain in my chest.

"What happened? Was she hurt?" I croaked.

"She has no physical injuries however she seems to be taking a longer time recovering emotionally. These things are normal reactions after a car accident, Edward," the doctor assured me and Emmett.

Not with Bella, I thought anxiously. A PTSD was most definitely _not_ a normal emotional reaction for her. I gritted my teeth.

More images were coming to me now and I couldn't get the sound of her screaming out of my wretched head. I felt an overwhelming guilt because I brought this upon her.

It was my fault!

If I was more careful, I could have avoided the accident. If I was more mindful or if I was taking better care of her, this wouldn't have happened.

"I want to see her," I said decisively. I tried to sit up again but Dr. Ral gripped my shoulder and held me, gently, in place.

"No, Edward," he said, equally firm. "You're not that well enough yet and we have to take more tests." Dr. Ral nodded to the nurse. "Prepare him, please, Dorothy."

He told me he would see me later but I didn't hear him. The doctor and nurse left the room.

I stared at Emmett.

"She's sedated," my brother said quietly, answering my silent question.

"Tell me."

"When the paramedics got to you, they couldn't get Bella out of the car. She was clinging to you," he said, taking a deep breath and pausing.

He told me that it was strangers who stopped to help and called 911; waited until the EMS people arrived.

At first they thought Bella was hurt and couldn't be moved. She was slumped over me, he said, shocked and screaming at people not to take me away.

"They had to give her calming shots but as soon as you were inside the emergency room, she went even wilder. The nurses had to fully sedate her," Emmett said. "They told me she regained consciousness about the same time you did."

"She's up?"

"No, bro. I'm sorry. Bella was hysterical, refusing treatment and hurting herself. She had to be medicated," my brother said quietly.

Emmett helped me remember the accident. It was raining last night, he said.

My head swam with recalled visions of bright lights and the sounds of tires screeching, metal crunching and glass shattering. The impact knocked the car to skid across two lanes of traffic. The driver of the other car was apparently drunk but like him, the other driver sustained minor injuries.

This was my fault, I repeated to myself over and over again, my hands cradling my head.

"Hey, stop that," my brother said, stressed. I didn't realize I was chanting the damning words aloud.

But it _was_ my fault!

"Alice is with her," he said.

I nodded, grateful that she was not alone. Emmett took out his phone and was talking to someone now.

He was still on the phone when Nurse Dorothy burst into the room. She seemed to be checking in on me every 30 minutes.

She was clucking her tongue, saying I looked tired and needed to rest.

As if she had power of suggestion, I felt my eyes getting droopy.

"Is Bella on this floor?" I said, frowning, my voice a bit slurred.

"Don't even try it, Mr. Cullen," she said, her eyes sharp on me. "We see everything here."

I knew she was still talking but I felt myself drifting off.

_Stay calm, Bella. _

And then I saw her smiling face, her brown eyes shining. I just couldn't stop from looking at her. She was telling me something, her expression changing.

The blue and green background shifting and was turning gray. She was no longer happy.

She opened her mouth but I couldn't hear what she was saying. I tried to come to her but I was paralyzed.

The ground she was standing on suddenly lurched and what was once solid became unstable. Everything around her was melting away and she was being sucked under.

Abruptly, I opened my eyes.

The beeping sound greeted me and I breathed a sigh of relief.


	23. Secret is out

Do you agree that** Stephenie Meyer, **author of Twilight, is now the most popular vampire writer since Anne Rice? (Entertainment Weekly article).

**Chapter23/"Secret" is out**

"Oh, good, you're up."

I felt lips touch my forehead and I turned my head. My sister smiled at me, busy on the phone.

Nurse Dorothy swept past Alice with a wheelchair. She first checked the monitors near me and scribbled something on my charts. She motioned for me to get up, helping me.

I braced myself for the pounding pain in my head.

When I was finally sitting up, Alice passed her phone to me, mouthing the word "Mom".

"I'm okay, Mom," I croaked to the mobile receiver.

"Oh, thank god! Honey, we were so worried!"

"It was a minor acc -"

"There's no such thing as a minor car accident, Edward, if it involves any of my children!"

"Mom, I'm really okay," I said, trying to make my voice sound firmer.

"Alright, honey." I heard her taking a deep, calming breath. "Try to sleep more and rest. We'll see you soon. Here's Dad -"

"Edward, I have asked Dr. Dalton to look after Bella." His gruff voice immediately had a calming effect on me.

I closed my eyes. Carlisle would always go straight to the point. At this moment, he added another level of understanding, something only a father would know.

"Thanks, Dad," I whispered.

He reconfirmed what he undoubtedly already knew from Dr. Ral about my head injury and what had happened to Bella. I had to ask him for one more thing.

"Can you arrange for Bella to be transferred to my room, Dad?"

"I will make the request, son," he replied quietly.

My mother talked to me for another five minutes and with considerable effort, I tried to reassure her again that I was fine and on the mend.

I gave the phone back to Alice and she left the room, still talking to our parents.

Nurse Dorothy nudged me until I was sitting on the edge of the bed, asking me if I was feeling nauseous. Reflexively, I shook my head and froze, gripped by the painful sensation of the turning razor blades inside my fucking brain.

I sat immobile on the edge of the bed.

I had to be like this, unmoving, for five more minutes before I could move without my stomach threatening to erupt bile out of my mouth.

The nurse informed me that I was to be taken for tests.

Alice reentered the room and she helped the nurse to sit me on the wheelchair.

"Where are we going?" I rasped, after I excused myself for a much neglected bathroom break.

"We're rolling you out for a CAT scan," the nurse said, adding that this was my second CAT scan. "We will do this pretty regularly," she warned. We left Alice in the room.

Out in the hallway, I glanced at the sign at the nurses' station: Neuro-Intensive Care Unit.

The radiology center was on the first floor of the DCAM building.

A female radiographer - or was it a radiologist - cheerfully chatted on and on about traumatic brain injuries and the required procedures to monitor "brain bleed".

I was feeling sluggish and dizzy from the trip so it was an effort to lift my leg high enough to get on the couch. Fortunately, I didn't need a liquid dye injection prior to the scan. The thought was enough to induce mental vomit.

"You're not showing any symptoms on brain bleed but we never know," she chirped.

She babbled on the intercom about epidural hemorrhage and dura mater while I was slowly being moved forward and backward inside the scanner, fucking making me nauseous for real.

The whirring sound wasn't helping either.

"When blood builds up in the brain, trapped between the brain tissue and the skull, it will create pressure until an artery is ruptured." Ms. Brain Hematoma was still talking.

I endured the closed-in tunnel, the whirring and Ms. BH – who kept reminding me to keep still - for half an hour.

My body was stiff by the time we left radiology. Ms. BH was calling after me – "it looks like we won't need an emergency craniotomy after all." I raised my hand in a semi wave, unimpressed, rolling away. "That's when they open your skull for surgery!"

I gritted my teeth.

Without moving my head, I glanced at Nurse Dorothy, who seemed to be trying not to laugh.

"How many times do I need to do this?" I growled.

"Oh, about two more scans," she said, fucking failing to hide her amusement.

I sighed.

Emmett was in my room when I was wheeled in. There were still residues of my irritation with the prattling radiographer so I transferred my annoyance to the next person.

"Where have you been?" I ground out.

He chuckled. "Hey, bro, I was only gone for two and a half hours. Are you cranky already?"

I ignored that.

"Dad's arranging Bella's transfer to this room. Can you hurry it along?"

"Patience, Edward," he said. He quickly interrupted me when I opened my mouth again. "And, you're not going anywhere anyway so what's to do? You wait."

Nurse Dorothy assisted me back on the bed and exited the room, taking the wheelchair with her.

I had wanted to make up an excuse so she would leave it behind but she was too clever for that. She would see right through my plans of rolling out of here to look for Bella's room.

"Where's Alice?"

"Here," she said, walking into the room with two paper bags of what smelled like pasta and pizza.

Jasper was with her. He simply nodded at me. "You look sick, dude," he said blandly.

I would have rolled my eyes at him but that would cause me a lot of pain. My head was still throbbing and I wasn't even sure if I could tolerate solid food.

Alice correctly interpreted my wary look. "Don't worry. You can eat. You just have to try, okay?"

She dropped a kiss on the top of my head. She wrinkled her nose. "And you need a bath."

I eyed Emmett. "Can you bring Bella, here, today?"

He pretended to think about that. Alice punched him in his arm. He grinned at me. "Sure."

"Then I need a sponge bath."

"I hope you're not volunteering me to do that," my brother said in horror. He looked mocking and ludicrous at the same time.

"Better call the blonde nurse outside." He wiggled his brows at me.

Jasper, who had been rummaging the food bag, snickered.

Alice cleared her throat. "Are you eating or not?"

"Fine. I eat, you talk," I groused.

She placed the bed tray over my lap and took out the food. What I had thought was tomato-based pasta was actually Minestrone, the traditional soup-for-the-sick of the Cullens.

"Mrs. Cope's," she said, adding that they had to restrain the kindly housekeeper from barging into the hospital. Only Esme's assurance convinced her to stay home.

I carefully sniffed the soup, testing my stomach. It grumbled, hungry, and I smiled a little. I scooped a spoonful to my mouth.

I gestured for Alice to start talking. I didn't need to tell her about _who_.

She carefully sat beside me on the bed and leaned her head against my arm.

"I didn't see what happened when they brought the two of you in, Edward," she said, but something about her tone made me look at her. She shifted restlessly on the bed. "When we got here, you were unconscious and so was Bella."

"She was sedated."

"Yes, but I was there when she woke up," she said quietly. "At first I was scared because there was blood on her clothes. She was still wearing the dress she was in during the accident."

I started, dropping the spoon when she mentioned blood.

"I was told she wasn't hurt!" I growled.

"No, she wasn't! I mean the accident didn't do that. The nurses said Bella was screaming and she bit her tongue when they tried to restrain her," she said, frowning.

I pierced Emmett with a look. He nodded and left the room. I pushed the soup aside and Jasper took the tray off the bed.

With a sigh, Alice took my hand and squeezed. My hand was shaking.

She handed me a plastic cup and I took a couple sips. I sagged back against the pillows.

"Was she … acting normal? When she woke up?" I asked her.

"To be honest? I'm not sure, Edward. She asked for you immediately. But -" She stopped.

"But what?" I felt my stomach lurch.

"She didn't recognize me, at first," she said quietly.

"What do you mean? She asked for me but she didn't know who you were?"

"Yes. It took her awhile to know who I was," she said, perturbed.

"And what happened next?"

"I told her you were alright but still sleeping. She wanted to see you. She was almost out of the room when she noticed the blood on her dress. And she … she flipped …" She trailed off, cautiously watching me for a reaction.

I closed my eyes.

My heart was pounding with fear and nerves and the fucking razors were twisting again.

"What's going on, Edward?" she whispered.

"Bella has … a condition." I opened my eyes in time to see my sister and Jasper exchange meaningful glances.

"What is it?" Jasper asked.

It was suddenly too difficult to speak but I told them what they needed to hear. Their reactions were remarkably circumspect. Jasper just stared at me and Alice was nodding her head as if she already knew.

The silence was broken only with the return of Nurse Dorothy.

I was ridiculously glad to see her and the vile medicines she would be forcing me to swallow. I felt my body succumbing to a welcome exhaustion.

Alice leaned down and kissed my forehead.

Jasper murmured something about checking on Emmett.

Clouded with sedatives, I fell asleep.

* * *

*****a/n**

Thanks **so much** to everyone who put the story on alerts and favorites, and the recs. So gratifying.


	24. Angst

In 2003, when **Stephenie Meyer** first sent out a few chapters of Twilight to publishers, she pitched it as a "supernatural, romance comedy." (Entertainment Weekly, 2008 article)

**Chapter24/Angst**

When I woke up next, Bella was in the room with me.

They brought in a smaller bed inside the private room. She was lying on her side, facing towards me.

A burst of nervous energy zipped through my body at the sight of her.

The beds were close, only four feet separating us.

I slowly sat up, clenching my jaw at the expected shooting pain in my head. My legs over the edge of the bed, I paused and stared at her.

She was preternaturally still in her sedated state. Like me, she was wearing hospital issues.

I surveyed her face carefully and I frowned. She looked dead tired.

I stood up on slightly unsteady legs. I had been fucking bed-ridden for far too long, I thought groggily. I crept closer and when I reached the edge of her bed, I leaned down and brushed my lips to her forehead. Her skin felt cold. I slowly caressed her face, hoping she would wake up.

"I'm sorry, Bella," I whispered, my hand was shaking. "I wasn't there for you ..."

I espied a chair at the foot of the bed and I edged it closer. I sat down and held her hand.

* * *

I was in the same position, one hour later, when Dr. Ral and another doctor walked in. I glanced at the wall clock. I was surprised that it was only 5pm.

"You're looking better, Edward," greeted Dr. Ral.

He introduced the other doctor as Bella's attending specialist, Dr. Stevens. I stood up and towered over the two smaller men.

"Tell me about Bella, Dr. Stevens," I asked immediately, crossing my arms over my chest.

Before he could begin to explain the situation to me, Nurse Dorothy made her usual appearance but she was followed by Alice this time.

Nurse Dorothy did her thing, fussing over my charts and re-checking the monitors. Alice had met Dr. Stevens and she gestured for him to continue. She sat on Bella's bed.

The doctor informed me that they had been closely monitoring Bella for hours. He briefed me about the last 17 hours and the sedatives given her.

"Mr. Cullen, we have several theories for Ms. Swan's later diagnosis, based on the symptoms she has so far displayed," Dr. Stevens started. "The patient, although considered an adult, has no close relatives at hand. We are asking you to sign papers before we could do blood toxicology."

I indicated my willingness to do this.

He continued to talk while I was reading the document. At the end of his long analysis of Bella's recent behavior, he asked me if I had seen her take any medication.

"Yes," I said.

I could feel exhaustion starting to seep in again, deep in my bones. I sat down on the edge of my bed. I told them about the antidepressants and the antipsychotic drugs.

Dr. Stevens didn't appear surprise to hear this. "Has she mentioned anything about her condition?"

I shook my head. It was true. Bella had never said outright or confirmed what her established diagnosis was.

"We were told that she had been treated for schizophrenia," Alice said quietly, her eyes on the sleeping Bella.

I was grateful that she had said it.

I was ashamed that I couldn't even say the word aloud as if doing so would be condemning Bella to a caged life.

The two doctors nodded simultaneously.

"We will do all we can for Bella, Edward," Dr. Ral said.

He warned me though, that stress and anxiety were risk factors that could trigger the psychosis.

Dr. Stevens again explained that although some patients only had one episode of schizophrenia, the same patient could have one or repeated relapses. I was well aware of that but what I wanted to know was if a relapse could be reduced or avoided.

"This is where treatment is important," the doctor replied. "As a doctor, I would say that it is providential that some of the symptoms reappeared while she was already here."

He briskly informed me that they will hurry the blood test results so Bella didn't have to stop her medication.

"We also ask one of you," Dr. Stevens turned to Alice, "to bring us her medicines. The chances of a relapse will decrease significantly if she continues with her medication as soon as possible."

"What will happen next? What are we supposed to expect from this?" I asked.

"She would feel guilty, anxious, insecure, ashamed and angry about what had happened," the doctor said at once.

"And Mr. Cullen," Dr. Stevens continued, picking up the signed document from the bed. "When she wakes up, try to convince her to see one of our therapists before you are discharged. She would be too afraid and become increasingly withdrawn."

When the doctors left, Alice and I stared at each other.

"Are you alright?" she suddenly asked.

I nodded, still silent.

After a long while I jutted my chin at her.

"Go home," I said quietly.

She chewed her lip, looking uncertain. She mumbled something about visiting hours was until 9pm and it was only after six.

The truth was I had no idea what else to tell her to make this easier for her and our family.

It was a rare moment when I didn't know what to tell Alice, who was the closest to me.

My mind was so unfocused, I couldn't even be fucking sure if I knew what I would do next.

"When we're out of here, we will talk. All of us," I murmured.

"Edward, are you sure you're okay?"

I shrugged. I started to say something but then I stopped.

I really couldn't do this right now.

I looked over at Bella's still form, my face rigid.

A primal emotion was building up inside me, from the base of my spine up to the back of my head.

I spit out a low, vicious curse.

"Edward -"

I cursed again, fisting my hands.

I felt my eyes stinging so I turned away from my sister.

"I said _go home_," I hissed.

One moment she was still and undecided and then she was rushing about the room.

She placed a paper bag on the bedside table, quietly informing me that it was supper for me and Bella. And then she was gone.

* * *

I was sitting on the edge of Bella's bed when Nurse Dorothy returned for her rounds. But instead of inspecting my charts, she went straight to Bella's other side and checked her vital signs. Blood pressure, respiratory rate, pulse and degree of sedation.

"I'll be here more frequently than our hourly routine, Mr. Cullen," she said.

"How often?"

"Every 15 minutes spot check for the next two hours for her pulse oximetry."

She explained to me that this was to monitor oxygen in her blood in case she was in danger of hyperventilation.

"How long does she need to be sedated?"

"I have to monitor and wait for the doctor's assessment."

When she noticed my dejected expression, trained professional Nurse Dorothy became plainclothes, compassionate Dorothy. She patted my arm reassuringly.

"But now that she's here with you, maybe she won't need to. You could be her human sedative." She smiled and left the room.

For the first time in hours, I felt a glimmer of optimism.

I remember Bella telling me that I had a soothing effect on her, like a tranquilizer. I had to smile at the memory.

I looked down at her hand which I was still clutching. I had forgotten that I had been holding her hand.

It was three more visits from the nurse, two painkillers and a sponge bath later that - exhausted from sitting motionless - I crawled into my own bed and curled up under the covers, my eyes on Bella until sleep came over me, finally.


	25. Awake

Twilight's by** Stephenie Meyer **

**Chapter25/Awake**

My eyelids snapped up and I blinked painfully at the hospital windows and the glare of the early morning sun.

Who drew the fucking curtains aside?

I shut my eyes again.

I heard the creaking of a bed and my eyes opened wide.

I sat up suddenly, my heart pounding. I winced at the pain my jerky action was inflicting on my fucking head.

Bella was staring at me.

She was sitting up on the bed hugging her knees and rocking back and forth.

She was utterly quiet.

I felt a nagging emptiness. I wanted to go to her but I hesitated. I willed her to come to me on her own.

_Let me know you want to, Bella._ _Please._

I managed a very wobbly smile.

I slouched back against the headboard.

"Come here, Bella," I murmured.

She unfolded herself; her expression impassive. She swung her legs off her bed and approached my side at a slow pace.

She stopped at the edge of my bed.

I wanted to grab her and pull her unto me but I was fucking terrified. She was so fragile, so _unreal_ to me.

Her mouth trembled open.

"Edward," she whispered so softly I had to strain to hear it.

"It is me, Bella," I said quietly.

She took shallow breaths, almost gasping. She carefully climbed onto the bed and wrapped her arms around me, mumbling words incoherently.

"Bella, baby, I'm here … I'm here now," I crooned, trying to calm her. I shifted our bodies until she was on my lap.

I could feel her heart was fluttering wildly.

I leaned down and brushed the lightest of kisses on her lips. To my intense relief, she parted her mouth and I swept my tongue over her soft, bottom lip. I tasted tears.

"Oh, Edward," she sobbed. "I thought y-you were dead!"

I wrapped my arms around her body tighter, rocking us both.

"Didn't I tell you I would never leave you?" I whispered, trying to smile but failing miserably.

"But y-you were _gone_!" she cried, her hands clutching at my arm.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," I rasped.

I was kissing her face and neck now, wanting to get closer to her. I fucking missed her!

A loud coughing announced the entry of Nurse Dorothy.

I briefly wondered about her rotation schedules. Was she ever off-duty?

"Good morning Mr. Cullen, Ms. Swan."

With a sigh, I lifted my head and muttered a greeting.

"I hope you're not thinking of breakfast yet, Mr. Cullen. We need you in radiology again this morning," she chirped.

I felt Bella trembling and I rubbed her back soothingly.

"Bella will come with me," I told Nurse Dorothy firmly.

She took one look at me and didn't even attempt to argue. Then, gently, she turned to Bella. "Bring your coat, Ms. Swan. It is against hospital policy to let a patient walk out of a room without the benefit of a wheelchair. But, I'm sure Dr. Dalton will allow you to accompany Mr. Cullen."

With that, she exited the room again.

She returned 10 minutes later and barked several questions at me in preparation for the MRI.

"Are you sure you can walk? It's several floors down," I informed Bella.

She gripped my hand and nodded emphatically. Nurse Dorothy wheeled me out.

Alice packed clothes and toiletries for us which, as expected, included a coat for Bella.

I reminded myself to include the nurse in the Cullens' Christmas gifts list when she started prattling about the hospital, UCMC and about Chicago in general as if we were touring a grand hall. I knew she was doing it to put Bella at ease.

Bernard Mitchell Hospital was a busy place and there were a lot of people and medical staff around.

Bella was clutching my hand and she was avoiding looking anyone in the eye.

She was a little jumpy when a helicopter noisily circled the building but she calmed down when I suggested that she ride on my lap.

It was a brilliant idea, I thought with relief.

Nurse Dorothy looked as if she was about to forbid this plan but she just shrugged, mumbling about the advantages of having a father on the UCMC board.

I just grinned at her.

"Oh, but you're a lightweight, Ms. Swan," she teased.

Bella let out a half-giggle, half-squeal when the nurse accelerated our pace.

She was definitely getting a Christmas gift. And, a birthday gift and for Thanksgiving and even Valentines Day, I vowed to myself.

When we got to radiology, I breathed another sigh of relief because Ms. BH was nowhere in sight. I didn't think she would have a positive influence on Bella with her talk of brain bleed.

The MRI machine was a lot similar to the CAT scanner.

The radiographer, Mr. Mumbles, was murmuring about metals inside my body and I was thinking if I had one, would he melt it?

Bella stiffened at the sight of the huge cylinder machine but Nurse Dorothy, bless her heart, led her to a small sofa in the corner and noisily chatted about hospital gossip.

The procedure took longer than the CAT scan.

Thank god I wasn't claustrophobic.

Mr. Mumbles, who I assumed was explaining the padding he was putting around my head because I could barely hear what he was saying, fitted the plastic coil on me for my brain scan.

I heard Bella nervously giggle at my comical appearance and I smiled at her.

After almost an hour, Mr. Mumbles was done. Bella hopped on my lap again and we rolled out.

When we returned to the room, there were two covered trays. I wasn't really hungry. Bella wasn't hungry too but I insisted she eat.

After a little food, we sat on the bed and she rested her head on my chest.

We didn't talk about the accident. In fact we didn't talk at all, both content with the silence and the comfort of being together.

"Hey," I gently nudged her after awhile. I leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Her only response was to link her fingers with mine, clutching, and her thumb caressed my skin.

"What are you thinking?" I whispered.

"I … that I always end up in hospitals," she whispered back.

I thought about that, and then I said - "Well, I practically grew up in one, in fact, several of these places." It was a lame attempt to lighten up her mood.

There was a long paused before Bella answered. "Have you ever been in one that you couldn't get out of? Screamed all day, and night, until you've lost your voice?"

I turned to her. She looked … calm.

Details. Perhaps the details of her confinement would ease her pain, emotional and psychological.

"Tell me," I said, squeezing her hand.

She stared at the door, as if waiting for someone. Then she turned to me, and smiled apologetically.

"I can't."


	26. Spooning

**Stephenie Meyer's **Twilight books were translated into 37 languages.

**Chapter26/Spooning**

At exactly 10am, our first visitors arrived.

Alice and Jasper brought more food.

"Bella!" Alice hurried to her side and they hugged.

My sister was gently brushing her hair and she produced a string to tie it behind her head.

She eyed the almost untouched breakfast tray and was apparently satisfied. "We brought soup!"

Bella sat up and allowed Alice to baby her. She seemed to like it although she was still too quiet.

Jasper was looking at me. He discreetly showed me three small plastic bottles. I nodded approvingly. They brought Bella's medicines.

"Did they tell you if you both can go tomorrow?" Alice asked me.

"I haven't seen Dr. Ral yet."

As if he was just waiting for his cue, the doctor himself entered the room.

He shook hands with Jasper whom he was also acquainted and bussed my sister on the cheek.

I let myself relax a little. Dr. Ral was being sociable and not strictly Dr. Dalton, attending physician.

Alice repeated her query about our discharge. She and Jasper were perched on Bella's smaller bed.

"Monday," the doctor confirmed.

Dr. Ral was briefing me about my CAT scan results but I saw that he was observing Bella more.

She was still bent over the bed tray, quietly spooning up her Minestrone, her back to my chest. She has moved closer to me as soon as the doctor was in the room.

Dr. Ral frowned and I mirrored his expression.

When he caught my eye, I arched my brow at him. He nodded once and turned to Alice.

"Do you have something for Dr. Stevens and me?"

Jasper handed him Bella's pills. He pocketed them while addressing Bella this time.

"How are you this morning, Bella? My name is Dr. Dalton or Dr. Ral to the Cullens and Hales," he said in a friendly tone.

Her spoon shook a little and she put it down beside the ceramic bowl.

"I'm okay, thank you, Dr. Dalton," she whispered, glancing at him very briefly.

"Dr. Stevens will be here in awhile and we'll have a chat, are you game for that?"

She didn't say anything but she gave him what I assumed was a little smile. I could feel her trembling. I kissed the back of her head and rubbed her arm.

Dr. Ral stayed for 10 minutes more. He was about to leave when Nurse Dorothy entered.

He gave her instructions for Bella's medications. She followed him out, returning almost immediately with a pill tray. I thought at first it was for me because she handed the capsules to me but they were for Bella.

We settled more comfortably on the bed, my back to the headboard and Bella curled up inside my arms.

Alice and Jasper occupied the other bed. We didn't talk much, content to watch the TV attached to the corner upper wall.

I talked to Mom and Dad again.

Bella was by now, sleeping against my chest, which was too bad because Esme wanted to say hello.

Thirty minutes later, Dr. Stevens and Dr. Ral came back and I gently woke Bella.

She answered all their queries but she wasn't looking at them. I had my arm across her body and she was absently running her fingers against my skin.

She was trying to hide it, but there were occasional tremors that shook her body. She was tense.

"Before you are discharged tomorrow, may we ask you to see one more of our colleagues, Ms. Swan?" Dr. Stevens said.

She turned her head to look up at me, her expression worried. "Do you think I have to?" she whispered.

"It couldn't hurt to try," I said softly.

"Dr. Stevens ... I'm a -- " She stopped, glancing nervously at Alice and Jasper, who were fastidiously watching the TV.

When it was obvious that she wasn't going to say anything more, Dr. Stevens patted her hand reassuringly and thanked her for agreeing to see a therapist the next day.

Dr. Ral and I talked for a few more minutes then he too left.

With lunch came Emmett and Rosalie.

My brother was extra attentive to Bella. I knew he was worried about her. And, for once, his girlfriend was acting friendlier.

"Bella, when we get home, how about you cook one lunch or dinner and then it's my turn after. What do you think?" my brother asked.

Bella's smile was a little brighter this time.

"I'd like to do that," she said quietly.

They spent 30 minutes discussing possible dishes. To be more precise about it, Emmett talked 80 percent of the time; Jasper and Alice accounted for the other 10 percent.

The last visitor of the day walked in the door just as Emmett and Rosalie were leaving.

"I hope you were all expecting me," Tanya said flippantly, raising her eyebrow when she was greeted with silence.

She ignored everyone, even me, but she smiled at Bella. She held out her hand before her.

"How are you, Bella? I don't usually cause minor accidents but I hoped meeting me wasn't too horrible?" she said charmingly.

I felt Bella take a deep breath. "I'm okay … we're okay. Thanks for coming," she said softly.

Tanya was behaving differently today. She hardly gave me attention at all and for that I was grateful.

She stayed for half an hour, mostly interacting with Jasper and Rosalie. Even Alice was quiet, glancing frequently at Bella.

When my brother, Rosalie and Tanya said their goodbyes, Jasper and Alice left with them. Alice wanted to come back to bring us food, but I assured her that we would order room service this time.

Finally after one long fucking day, we were alone.

Except for the ever present and probably never off-duty Nurse Dorothy, of course.

"Hungry?" I asked her.

She nodded. We ordered sandwiches. We watched TV while we ate.

Bella took a short nap in her own bed. I used the bathroom while she was sleeping. She woke up less than an hour later and she was hungry again. Fortunately, Alice left food.

She was rummaging inside our joint luggage – Alice packed it that way – when she let out a loud sigh.

"What is it?"

"Alice packed my new nighties."

"And?"

Wordlessly, she held out a thin pink chemise thing with holes or "eyelets" – the annoying "Alice voice" in my head corrected.

I grinned at her. "Yeah, I see what you mean. I don't think Dr. Stevens and Dr. Ral would be the same again if they see you wearing that."

She scrunched her face at me and I laughed -- fucking laughed for the first time in two days.

"I'm more worried about Nurse Dorothy's reaction," she said lightly. "Can I wear one of your shirts?"

I wanted to tell her that the sight of her in my t-shirts was more enticing than a sexy chemise but I decided to keep quiet.

She picked one of my big t-shirts and went to the bathroom. When she reentered the room, I patted the bed and she climbed up.

It was a narrow bed even for a hospital -- that was why they call in-patients "confined" -- but it didn't matter since we always fit perfectly.

We snuggled down to a spoon position.

I kissed her ear, idly wondering about hospital policy against locked doors.

I still suffer persistent headaches but it had become increasingly tolerable as the day progressed. The bearable pain allowed me to redirect my attention to more physical pursuits – all of them involving the girl in my arms.

But we were not on the same page yet. I could feel some tension in her.

"What is it, baby?" I whispered in her ear.

"I keep seeing the bright lights and it was inexorably heading towards us, to you! I knew you were going to die!" she wailed.

I hugged her closer.

"You could still die! You could be bleeding internally. They wouldn't even know if you were hemorrhaging," she said worriedly.

"You know," I said, instilling humor in my tone. "There's a lady I'd like you to meet. Her name is Ms. Brain Hematoma of Radiology. You two could be friends, share morbid thoughts about brain bleed and all that."

She scowled at me.

I raised her hand to my lips and kissed her palm.

I wanted her mouth more so I carefully turned her body until we were cuddling face to face.

She playfully squirmed when she felt me poking her belly. I grinned crookedly at her, liking it.

We kissed slowly, stoking a slow fire. Our breaths mingled.

I dipped my tongue and traced the contours of her mouth. My hand was stroking her thigh and I was about to lift the hem of her shirt when the door opened.

"Patients! None of that," Nurse Dorothy admonished us.

I smiled sheepishly at her while Bella just burrowed her head closer to my chest.

When she exited, Bella sighed.

I kissed her forehead.

We resumed our spoon position, not that this was less arousing. I happen to like spooning, the carnal way.

I contemplated about it, seriously I did. We could do it under the sheets. Spooning was one of the most natural and intimate embrace.

I heard a soft sighing from Bella and I smiled.

It was useless to plan any discreet sex now. She had fallen asleep.


	27. Disturbed

**Stephenie Meyer**, author of Twilight, was inspired by Shakespeare's plays: Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer's Night Dream and Merchant of Venice.

**Chapter27/Disturbed**

I heard her voice first.

"Is the doctor female?"

She sounded agitated.

I could picture her gnawing her bottom lip worriedly, hands gripping each other.

"Yes, Dr. Weisberger certainly is," replied Nurse Dorothy.

"I … I don't like female therapists," Bella said quietly.

The squeaking of Nurse Dorothy's rubber-soled shoes – she was always moving about the room - ceased abruptly. Slow steps, the rustle of sheets and a bed creaking.

She was sitting on Bella's bed.

"Do you want me to inform Dr. Stevens about your concern?" she asked her solicitously.

There was a long silence and I heard Bella trying to slow down her breathing.

"N-no … I'll ask Edward."

I stirred and turned to her.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard me move.

I nodded to the nurse.

Bella stood up and came closer to me.

"How is your head?" she whispered, linking her small hand with mine. I raised it and kissed her wrist.

"Better today," I lied. My head was pounding.

Nurse Dorothy reached inside her pocket and placed two capsules on a tray pill that she always carried with her.

"Good morning, Mr. Cullen," she said, handing me the pills and a cup. "You might be feeling _better_ but you're prescribed to take this."

Prescribed my foot, I thought dryly, sitting up, trying not to wince.

She knew it was not mandatory for patients to take analgesic medications if there wasn't anything sore or infected. Her eyes told me she was aware that I was faking it. I swallowed the painkillers with gratitude.

"When do you need Bella for therapy?" I said. Her hand tightened around mine.

Nurse Dorothy told us it was scheduled for 10am, three hours from now.

"Oh, Mr. Cullen," the nurse said on her way out. "You will be discharged at noon." Bella was gripping my hand almost painfully now.

"Bella, it will be okay," I said softly, thinking she was nervous about her therapy session.

I pulled her towards me until she was in bed, sitting between my legs, and her back against my chest.

"She only said you," she muttered.

She let out a shaky breath.

"Bella …"

"She said _you_ will be discharged today, Edward!" She shifted until she was facing me. "Because you've recovered and I didn't! And then they'll -" She choked off, starting to cry. "Are you keeping me here? You will leave me here?"

"No, Bella. We will _both_ leave today," I said firmly.

I felt my lungs begin to tighten.

"That's not what she said!" She grabbed my shirtfront. "Call her back, Edward. Tell her I'm leaving with you!"

She glanced wildly around the room as if she expected to be dragged away any minute.

"Everyone's been acting kind to me," she said, her tone laced with bitterness. "It's because they plan to keep me here, isn't?"

Her eyes widened in panic. "It's my mother!" she gasped. "They called my mother!"

She pushed against my chest and was about to fling herself from the bed when I held her arms, keeping her still before she got hurt.

When she whipped her head back to me and looked at me with fear, I froze. I found myself face-to-face with a Bella I knew I would encounter one day.

_This was too soon. Damned fucking too soon! _

Her entire body was trembling and her restless eyes were dilated. Her mouth compressed into a thin line.

"Edward … Edward …"

My heart had started beating faster in time with my throbbing head. I took a deep breath, mentally bracing myself.

I cupped her face, my thumb rubbing her soft bottom lip.

"Breathe, Bella," my voice was deceptively calm. "Listen to me. When I leave here, you will come with me."

She started to speak but I shook my head at her.

It took all of my self-control not to subdue her, not to use some force. I didn't know what I was feeling and if this was anger - god help me - that it was not directed at her. I felt a vein ticking madly in my left forehead.

Bella's breathing was getting worse as if she couldn't get enough air in her. Her skin was cold and paler.

I quickly pressed the call button.

"Stay calm, Bella," I whispered urgently. "You have to help me help you."

"P-promise me," she whispered, clenching her fists convulsively. She looked up at me with huge, stricken eyes.

"I will not leave without you, baby," I said in a low voice. "I will _not_ fucking leave you," I repeated, putting every ounce of my will into my voice to convince her.

She sat motionless, nodding slowly but I could see doubt and fear still marring her expression.

Mute, she turned her head and stared at the wall. I caressed her arm comfortingly.

Her fluttering heart was starting to even its beats.

"Don't lose control." I touched her chin lightly and when she looked up at me, my hands cuddled her ashen face.

"I … I'm afraid … always afraid I will become p-paralyze," she whispered brokenly. I brushed tears running down her cheeks. "And I w-wouldn't remember ..."

The door opened with a loud crack, startling both of us.

For a moment my hands on her face refused to let her go but I stilled, consciously following my own request to her to remain calm as well.

It was a different nurse who hurried in.

I sighed in relief that it wasn't the perceptive Nurse Dorothy. I gently encouraged Bella to lay her head on my chest.

"Did I call you? My bad," I smiled at the new nurse.

She blinked at me, flushing. She was young, perhaps one of the nursing assistants. She patted her blonde hair back and shifted on her feet uncertainly.

"Err yes, Mr. Cullen," she mumbled shyly at me. When I said nothing more, she left the room.

I rubbed Bella's back, murmuring soothing words to her and willing her to relax. I felt her whole body softening, warming.

Her emotions, which were spiraling one instant and then plummeting to placidity, seemed eccentric and unmotivated to a casual observer. But she could still control herself, I tried to convinced myself.

I clamped my teeth together against an onslaught of doubts and fears.

"I'm s-sorry," she whispered.

I heard her sucking in a deep breath. She raised her head but she avoided looking directly in my eyes. She stared at my chin.

For several seconds I was motionless as if my body knew that any sudden action will unleash some primal emotion.

"Did you take your medication this morning?" I flinched at my accusatory tone.

_Don't lose it, Cullen. Not with her. _

She nodded, wiping tears.

I gently tipped her chin up. Her brown eyes were darker and I caught my breath, realizing they were cloudy with dread.

Did she think I would let anyone harm her? Or that I could even _hurt_ her myself?

I let out a heartfelt sigh.

I leaned forward intending to kiss her when I stopped. She gazed down at my mouth and she crushed her lips against mine.

She curled her fingers in my hair and opened her mouth. That was all I needed.

I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her. I tasted her tears as I kissed her deeply.

At this moment, I loved her more than life itself and even if she never loved me, I would value every second I spent with her. I inhaled her scent and the familiar warm-glow she always induced in me spread all over my body.

I heard the door open but instead of discreet coughing, the door clicked shut again.

I released Bella's soft lips and looked up. An involuntary smile touched my mouth.

"I think Nurse Dorothy has given up trying to sanitize this room." I grinned at her.

She blushed, her eyes roaming all over my features as if memorizing every planes of my face.

I kissed the tip of her nose.

"There's nothing to fear, sweetheart," I said quietly after awhile. "It's just talk therapy. I expect to get one too."

She sighed and nodded.

"I used to see one every day," she whispered, "and …" She averted her eyes.

She got out of the bed and barefoot, wearing only my shirt, she paced around the room. She looked so agonized, obviously trying to tell me something. She abruptly stopped and slowly turned to face me.

"I'm .. I'm … I-I've had shock therapy -" She stopped, clearly shaken by something, some oppressive memory. She covered her face and the intoning she was making scared the fuck out of me.

It sounded like chanting.

Alarmed, I climbed out of bed.

"No!" she yelled.

I froze, cold like a statue.

She hastily walked to her bed's other side as if she wanted to put a barrier between us. She tried to catch her breath.

"Bella, stop it," I said calmly.

"No! I-I have to tell you -" She whimpered.

"Bella, I _know_."

I couldn't bear to watch her torturing herself over this. Equally unbearable was to hear her say the word finally. It was selfish of me to not let her say it.

I had no valid argument and I couldn't admit to this fucking fear either.

She blinked several times.

I slowly approached her and she watched me, chewing on her bottom lip and hugging herself.

I was every bit as afraid as she was but I couldn't let this discourage the both of us.

"And I have to tell you something too," I said softly. "These things … what you have. It doesn't bother me. You know why?"

She just stared at me and my skin prickled.

"Esme, my mother … she's a psychiatrist." I took the last step forward. I touched her arm and looked down at her pale face. "When I tell you I can deal with this I know what I'm saying to you," I said. I carefully freed her lower lip from between her teeth, smoothing the swollen soft skin with my thumb. "It's alright to talk about this with me, baby. I won't run screaming."

Her small hand covered mine. She whispered my name. I pressed her hand against my face.

The silence was broken only by a decisive knock.

I raised a brow at her and she smiled a little. Nurse Dorothy had never deigned to knock or announce her entry before.

"Mr. Cullen, Ms. Swan," she said determinedly.

The nurse checked our vitals for our discharge sheets. She ordered us back to our respective beds. We meekly complied.

"Ms. Swan, Dr. Weisberger will annotate your discharge letter for any change in medications so yours will be released after your consultation," she explained. "Mr. Cullen will be discharged first."

I watched Bella closely for any unexpected reaction. She merely nodded her acquiescence. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I walked to her side, pleased that she seemed to have regained her self-possession.

It was while Nurse Dorothy was disengaging the monitors when our breakfast trays arrived.

I was glad she was here because she bullied Bella into eating almost all the food on her plate.

Even _I_ couldn't get her to eat as much as that, I thought with a hint of jealousy.

I watched Bella eat slowly.

I had never been particularly charmed playing the hero, despite what Jasper thought about my actions, past and present.

But right now, thinking of Bella and a psycho-therapist in the same room? I wished I was a fucking damned superhero, preferably with teleporting and flight powers.

* * *

*****a/n**

Thanks for the reviews! Your words encourage me, always.


	28. 5 minutes

**Stephenie Meyer** of Twilight, who is a Mormon, is an advocate of sexual restraint.

**Chapter28/5 minutes**

Bella was in the bathroom when my mother phoned.

"How's my favorite child?" Mom said without preamble.

I laughed. She calls all of us her "favorite" child.

"I miss you, Mom."

"Then you're feeling better, my wee Wadey baby."

I groaned.

"Geez, _Mommy_, you haven't called me that since I was eight!"

"You always loved it," she retorted.

"Never did! I just didn't want to hurt your feelings," I confessed. "But I can tell you now that it was a really embarrassing, cheesy nickname."

"Ow, my wee Wadey baby …"

I sighed, suppressing a shudder at being called "wee". I endured several more minutes of her babying when she finally informed me that Emmett and Alice would pick us up today. As expected she asked for Bella but she was indisposed, again.

"Have you told her what I used to do?"

"You mean what you _still_ do?"

"In an unofficial capacity, of course."

"Yeah, I told her," I said plaintively.

"How did she take that?"

"She didn't react at all."

"You know I'm going to have to talk to her soon. I don't want you to think I'm meddling," she said flatly.

"When?"

"Wednesday. Alice will give you the details."

In two days. In a way I was relieved that my parents would be here soon.

Carlisle and Esme were great parents. As far as I could tell, raising three teenagers didn't cause that much anxiety in them.

Or maybe, they were just _really_ good at masking their own torment, watching our growth from puberty to adolescence.

We turned out okay, I guess. No complaints so far.

On the other hand, I was worried what this would mean to Bella and me.

I sighed again, running my hand through my hair.

Growing up with a psychiatrist mother – who counseled dozens of mothers with debilitating concerns about _their _own teens - only honed Esme's maternal instincts, I think. After all, she had the advantage of experience and a medical training in handling behavioral problems. But she never did allow any of us to visit her clinic.

Once, I made the mistake of dropping unannounced in her office and I witnessed one of her colleague's patients undergoing electroshock treatment. My mother was furious. I always thought that she had overreacted. What did I see anyway? The patient didn't go Jack Nicholson on the gurney and I wasn't traumatized.

"Mom," I suddenly blurted out, interrupting her monologue. "Didn't you write a protest letter or whatever about electrically stimulating patients?"

My question made her pause.

I fidgeted, impatient for her answer. I was about to repeat my question when she finally replied.

"I was always against electroconvulsive therapy, Edward, you knew that."

"Why? What happens when someone has had it?"

"Well, honey, you get your brains zapped and it's never effective, not for the long-term. This treatment is violent even with anesthesia."

"Then why do they still do it?"

"It's not regulated," she sighed, then, "had she been given ECT?" she asked sharply.

My parents never miss anything.

"Yeah -" I stopped. I heard the bathroom door creak open. "Mom, I've got to go. I'll talk to you later."

"Wait, Edward -"

Bella had just reentered the room, glancing at me with a smile.

"I'm still here."

"Everything okay?" She heard the tension in my voice. I nodded and then I realized she couldn't see me.

"Yeah. Can we discuss this later, _Mommy_?" I teased, letting her know everything was alright.

"Sure, honey," she laughed. "Call me when you get home." And she hanged up.

Bella climbed on the bed and since I was sitting in the middle, she slid behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist, her legs caging me. She laid her cheek against my back.

She inhaled, making her trademark breathy half-moan, half-whimper sounds. She sighed contentedly. I duplicated her sigh, pushing my concerns aside.

I was totally focused on her now.

"So was it an interesting shower?" I felt her nodding her head.

I wasn't really asking about her bathing but I decided to let it go. She didn't need Mr. Showerhead so long as I could do the job better, thank you very much.

"We should have showered together," she mumbled against my back.

I did thought about it. I contemplated making love with her in the bathroom last night but I didn't want to stress round-the-clock Nurse Dorothy anymore than I, undoubtedly, already had.

"Don't tempt me," I murmured.

I couldn't resist twisting my body and reaching out to her.

She shifted her position and was now straddling my lap, her arms around my neck. Her hair was wet and she was so deliciously scented.

I touched her chin and tilted her face to mine. _Sorry Nurse Dorothy_, I thought, remorseless.

I parted her soft mouth and pushed my tongue inside seeking hers. She feels so fucking_ good._

I lifted her, my big hands on her hip and I deliberately rubbed her butt against my arousal, hard.

She gasped and grabbed my hair. I took advantage of that and plunged my tongue deeper inside her mouth. I couldn't get enough of her.

I locked mouths with her with brutal urgency and she kissed me back with equal passion. I was hungry and needy and she was so soft and sweet. I sucked and bit her bottom lip.

I was so consumed by her I didn't even hear the door opening.

She had "Ahem" us three times before her presence registered in my lust befogged brain.

Bella wrenched herself away and buried her head on my chest.

I blinked at Nurse Dorothy. Only, it wasn't her it was the other nurse.

"Err … I have to remind you about the 10am appointment? That's um, in 15 minutes?" she squeaked, her face very red.

"Thank you," I said, clearing my throat. She stumbled out.

Fifteen minutes.

If Nurse Dorothy was not around … and Nurse Junior wouldn't dare come back after this …

I cupped Bella's face up to me. Her eyes were dark and her breathing was ragged.

"Five minutes?" I murmured.

She sucked in a breath and nodded. She didn't wait for me but jumped off the bed and almost ran to the bathroom. I was close behind her.

I shut the door and had her standing in front of the sink, lifted her skirts and dragged her panties down her legs. My hands were trembling.

I was still wearing my hospital Johnny shirt and boxers. In five seconds I was pushing half-way inside her.

A primal growl escaped my lips. Fucking _tight_, too tight.

I laced my fingers in hers, holding her hands up against the glass. Pressing deeper, I bit her earlobe and talked dirty to her like I always wanted to, watching her face in the mirror.

Her glazed eyes lost focus and her hot breath steamed the glass.

Ramming speed and an early climax was called for so I whispered the filthiest words I know, my voice deep and guttural.

When her body was shaking and I felt her walls tightening around me, I bent my knees for quick lunges.

"Come." I grunted. "_Now!_"

She bit off a scream and spasmed around my cock as she came.

I released her hands, slid out and turned her around, back against the door. I wrapped her leg around my hip and reentered her in one deep thrust. I groaned loudly, spilling inside her.

When I could speak again, I looked at her. She was gazing up at me as if she just discovered something new.

I gave her my crooked smile.

Her pretty face, already flushed, flooded an even deeper pink.

I raised a brow at her. What ever she was about to say was interrupted by the slamming of a door and Nurse Dorothy noisily moving in the room.

I asked Bella to remain in the bathroom and to get ready for her appointment.

Nurse Dorothy refused to look at me directly when I came out.

I smiled a little at her resigned look.

She then informed me that I was now officially dismissed from the hospital.

"I wish you well and a good day to you, Mr. Cullen."

She finally turned to me and even cracked a grudging grin, before leaving.

Soon as she was gone, I glanced at the clock, then at the closed door of the bathroom.

No more time for that, I thought regrettably.


	29. Procrastination

Twilight's by** Stephenie Meyer **

**Chapter29/Procrastination**

We were 10 minutes late when we got to Dr. Weisberger's office.

Bella seemed calm and composed, and I let myself relax.

A door opened and a woman with curly red hair greeted us. I stood up.

"Isabella Swan, I'm Dr. Weisberger but call me Victoria. Would you like to come in now?"

Bella hesitated and instead of getting up, she turned to look up at me.

"Please?"

I could never say no to her so I nodded and pulled her up to her feet.

"Will it be alright if I sit in on this session?" I asked the therapist who I assume was a psychiatrist rather than a psychologist.

It was mere politeness that I was asking for her permission because I wasn't going to accept a negative reply.

The doctor smiled her assent and she led us inside her office-slash-clinic.

I wanted to see how Bella would react to her. However after several minutes I realized this session was not what I was expecting it to be.

Dr. Weisberger didn't talk about the accident at all. She wanted to know about how we met.

We both looked at Bella. This was her session after all.

We were sitting on a couch. She seemed to want to maintain space between us but I reached out and held her hand encouragingly.

She briefly recounted our first meeting under 10 words.

"How do you like Chicago so far?" the doctor asked her.

I had an odd moment where I heard a completely different question, that there seemed to be a hidden question within the question.

_What is your relationship with the guy sitting beside you? _

"I want to stay here," Bella said softly.

_I am with him._

"I understand you have no close kin here?"

_Have you told him the truth about your mental disorder?_

Bella shook her head, biting her lower lip.

There was a large photo sitting prominently on the side table near the doctor and she caught Bella looking fixedly at it. She told her it was her husband.

"Was he your patient?" Bella asked quietly.

Dr. Weisberger spoke in a soft, high-pitch voice. "Yes, he was one of my first patients." She observed Bella's reaction, then, "he was a schizophrenic."

"Where is he?"

"My husband has died, Isabella."

There was an awkward pause which was broken only when the doctor informed Bella that her regular medications would not be changed.

"We don't recommend a change in antipsychotics because these require other authority and we don't have your medical background yet, Isabella," Dr. Weisberger said.

Bella glanced at me briefly when she mentioned antipsychotic drugs and I smiled at her reassuringly. She still looked nervous so I kissed her cheek.

The surprisingly short session was strange. The questions were not conventional and there was no query relating to PTSD, except references to her medications.

Bella's answers were brief but direct.

Finally after only 30 minutes, Dr. Weisberger stood up and we said our quick goodbyes.

"Not so bad, isn't?" I said.

Bella smiled lightly.

* * *

Emmett and Alice were in the room.

My sister informed me that she took care of the billing and payments. She was repacking our stuff when we entered.

Bella started to help her but she playfully barked at her to stop her meddling. She blushed and backed off.

I frowned at Alice but my sister noticed her reaction and immediately placated her.

"Sweetie, I was just kidding," she said softly.

Alice gave me a look and I shook my head at her.

Emmett left the room but came back 10 minutes later with Dr. Ral. He handed me Bella's medicines.

I quickly glanced at Bella but she was busy with Alice.

Dr. Ral accompanied us to the main lobby of the hospital, reminding me to come back for checkups later in the week. He took me aside.

"Edward, can you get Bella's medical records? I'm sure Dr. Weisberger has already informed you that we didn't prescribe new medicines or changed her dosage."

"Is there something I need to know about?" I asked him cautiously.

"This is just procedure," he assured me.

We shook hands and Dr. Ral left after getting a promise from me that I would try to bring Bella back for another therapy session.

* * *

"Are you self-parked?" I asked my brother.

Parking was on the second level.

"No bro, I wouldn't want Bella to walk all the way back to the bridge." He winked at her. She had moved to my side and I put my arm around her waist.

A valet attendant brought around Emmett's 4x4 SUV and we exited through Maryland Avenue.

"What happened to my car?"

I had been so concerned for Bella I forgot the Volvo. As expected, the car door and auto glass for the windshield need replacing.

"It will be delivered next week," my brother said. He also reminded me to drop by the police department later in the week for a statement.

Alice, who was sitting in the back with Bella, had planned on taking us to lunch but Mrs. Cope wouldn't hear of it.

"If we're not back by 1pm you have to explain to her why we're late, Emmett,' she grumbled.

My brother was driving like it was Sunday in 1918. He shrugged and glanced at me. "I don't want you to mess with my car if you get sick or something," he said slyly.

I made vomiting noises and Alice reached forward and punched my shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay, brother," she said.

It was 12:30pm when we pulled into our driveway. Mrs. Cope fussed over me as soon as we walked inside the house. I kissed her cheek and promised her I would eat everything she cooked for lunch.

Finally, I took Bella's hand and went upstairs to our room.

I pulled her up into my chest for a close embrace as soon as we were alone. I inhaled her scent.

"I need to lie down for awhile. Join me?" I whispered.

"Are you alright?"

"I am now."

I missed her and our privacy, and now that we were home and could be completely alone, I could relax a little. My head had been bothering me but it was tolerable.

Bella took my hand and we got on the bed. She helped me remove my shoes I was that tired, to my surprise.

We lay face to face and she pressed her lips gently against mine. I put my arm around her.

We sighed simultaneously and we laughed. I stroked her back and pulled her closer.

We stayed this way, cuddling and not talking, for almost an hour.

* * *

By the time we were hungry enough to move, it was 2pm.

In the kitchen, I could see Mrs. Cope got carried away with her cooking. It was a veritable welcome home feast with all my known favorites – pasta, chicken, sausages and not one, but two cakes.

She even put our names in icing. Mine was plain just my name while Bella's were full of other edible decorative tiny sculptures.

Bella placed small servings of everything on her plate, smiling apologetically at Mrs. Cope. She did take one whole slice of her cake which was enough to placate her.

As for me, I let Mrs. Cope have her way and she filled my plate. It would take me more than an hour to finish off everything.

I was, thankfully, halfway through when I caught Bella stifling a yawn.

"Go on upstairs, Bella," I told her softly. She smiled tiredly, kissed my cheek and left the kitchen.

"Is Alice here?" I asked Mrs. Cope.

"Yes, dearie, she's with Jasper in her gazebo."

Emmett, she added, was in the garage. I was about to walk up the stairs to my room after I had finished eating when I heard Jasper in the living room. I retraced my steps and joined him and Alice there.

I walked in just as Emmett entered the room from a different door leading out to the porch.

"Hey! We were just talking about you," said Alice.

I tiredly sunk into one of the armchairs, rubbing my eyes of exhaustion. My stomach was so fucking full it was hard not to belch crudely.

"What about?" I said lazily, sinking further into the cushions. I could feel my eyes drooping.

She informed me about our parents' expected arrival in two days and other details about their homecoming.

"Did they say how long they will stay here?"

"Indefinitely, I guess. Mom said we'll have a family meeting."

I roused at that, stiffening. It didn't sound good from where I was sitting.

My sister looked over sharply as if she wanted to tell me something.

"That's inevitable," I said. I let out a long breath.

Alice shifted in her chair. "Yeah, I know."

"Are we still going to New Hampshire?" Emmett piped in, breaking the momentary silence.

Damn, I thought tiredly, running my hand in my hair.

I was due to report at Dartmouth in two weeks.

I knew my brother expected me to say something or confirm our previous plans. I wanted to exit the room and avoid this topic but I didn't even have the strength to stand up right now.

I stared at the wide windows.

After a moment, I shrugged at him.

My headache, which comes and goes, was suddenly, ferociously back.

I really didn't care about Dartmouth or Yale. My body felt heavy and I wasn't in the right frame of mind to discuss this with anyone.

I didn't think I could come up with a justifiable excuse this time to appease my brother either.

Emmett was frowning.

"You don't have time to procrastinate about this, Edward."

"Emmett -" My sister started to say something but she stopped.

"Look, bro," I said testily, "I know what I have to do and I'm not putting off college. It's just not my priority today or even tomorrow, alright?"

He dropped the subject, thank god.

And as I sat there, dimly aware of my siblings and Jasper talking about something else, I realized that it was harder now to decide about what to do in the next weeks or in the next months.

All I could think of was Bella.

Hell, all I want to think about was her. I sighed.

I had to put up a good front. I couldn't allow my family to think I was becoming too obsessed with the only girl I had ever loved.

I shook my head at myself. I might as well leave the room before I screw this up and let them know just how stumped I was.

"I -" I looked up and intercepted the worried look exchanged between my two siblings. I sighed again.

I felt older than my 19 years.

"Later," I muttered.

I was out of there in seconds.

When I entered my room, Bella was sleeping on her stomach again. I knelt on the bed and rolled her body so she was lying on her side. I kissed the top of her head and lay down beside her.

_Fucking so tired._


	30. Aunt Marge

**Stephenie Meyer's **New Moon, the film version, earned more than $700 million worldwide at the box office. The movie budget was only $50 million.

**Chapter30/Aunt Marge**

I woke up and Bella wasn't in my arms.

The room was dark. I had slept longer than I had intended to.

I looked for her. I checked the bathroom, the library, kitchen, sitting room, living room, and she wasn't anywhere in the house. I even checked the garage. Both Alice's and Emmett's cars were not there.

I returned to the house and I was about to go out in the gardens when I noticed the light at the bottom of the door of my father's study.

I opened the door slowly.

Bella was sitting in one of the three leather armchairs, her feet tucked under her. She was reading one of Carlisle's medical books.

I stood by the door, watching her.

I knew she was aware I was in the room but she didn't look up. I sat in the armchair directly opposite her and waited.

After what seemed like half an hour she finally looked up at me. I had been intently watching her face that I didn't immediately notice that she was standing. She walked, barefoot, to the big table and lay the book down.

"We don't have much time," she said softly.

I rose slowly to my feet. She turned to me, her expression bleak.

"I can feel it, Edward," she whispered. "I can hear them," she breathed the words so softly I barely heard it.

I wrapped my arms around her trying to soothe her. What could I do to help her? All my failings seem to be crashing down on me at this moment.

"I'll help you," I said quietly. My stomach churned. "We'll get help, Bella," I added with more confidence. "Don't … don't let this defeat us."

Did I let this happen? Did I do this because I was fucking too naive to believe and fucking too presumptuous to think that I could help her? It was now obvious to me what big a mistake I had committed in not facing this sooner.

I leaned away and cupped her face. I wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"I will call your aunt tomorrow, alright? You have to remain strong," I quietly urged her. "Esme, my mother, will be here soon, Bella." I kissed her lightly on her lips. "She can help us."

She nodded but she still looked … mournful. As if she was losing someone she loved.

"Bella," I shook her a little in my rising panic.

She blinked several times and I saw that she was making an effort to snap out of it.

She tried to give me a small smile. She touched my hand, which was still holding her face.

I watched her closely. I kissed her again and dropped my hands. I glanced at the table.

"What were you reading?"

"S-symptoms to look for to … prevent relapse."

"Were they significant?"

She walked back to the armchair and sat down, hugging her knees close to her chest.

I stood still, watching her.

"I was acting out this morning," she said quietly. "Wasn't I?"

I wanted to deny it but I couldn't. I nodded.

"I don't want to lose you ... " She smothered a sob, her hand in her mouth. I could hear disjointed words of "keep me away" and "don't leave me" but she was trying to suppress herself. "I couldn't forget that night," she mumbled. "I keep seeing you unconscious." She suddenly stood up. "I … I k-knew that if you had d-died I would kill myself!"

"Bella -" I was moving slowly toward her.

"I wouldn't … I refuse to live in a world without y-you." She glared at me. "Don't die! Do you hear me? P-please don't die," she sobbed.

I took a deep, deep breath. I understood her despair better than she could ever imagine because I felt the same way.

When I was standing in front of her she looked up at me, her liquid brown eyes searching my face for something.

"Oh god, I'm so s-sorry," she cried, looking broken.

I reached out and took her hand.

"You're exhausted, Bella," I whispered.

Her face was pale and she was trembling. At the back of my mind, I heard Dr. Steven's words again - _"She would feel guilty, anxious, insecure, ashamed and angry about what had happened."_

I led her out of the study.

Inside our room I went straight to the bathroom.

I didn't think and I didn't pause.

I removed her clothes, not waiting for her to do it herself, and gently nudged her under the shower. I quickly divested myself of my own clothes and joined her.

It didn't take long. I washed her first and then myself.

I could feel her body slowly relaxing. I helped her dry off and she put on a pink flannel nightie.

I watched her take her medications like I was some fucking jail warden.

I tried to control my frustrations and god knows I didn't want to be angry, especially at her. Some days, like right now, I could barely distinguish the focus of my anger and who it was directed to –- her or me.

Angry at myself because I was so fucking useless when it came to her.

Angry at her – which I would never, _never _allow to take root - because she had turned my life upside down.

When she had settled in, lying quietly in bed wiping more tears at her own frustrations and feelings of helplessness - I felt utterly and devastatingly lost.

I took her in my arms and kissed her forehead. I shifted and turned off the wall light.

Her breath escaped her lips in a sigh and she turned to me. I felt her tiny fingers caressing every planes of my face in the dark; felt her loving touch until she fell asleep.

Too tired to think anymore, the doctor's words floated inside my brain. _Guilty, anxious, insecure, ashamed and angry about what had happened._

The exact emotions I was feeling right now ...

* * *

I lifted my numbed arm, the arm Bella slept on and stiffly raised it.

I heard a muffled snicker.

I glanced at the alarm clock. 10am.

Bella was standing at the foot of the bed, smiling. She was carrying two mugs of what smelled like brewed coffee.

I blinked sleepily at her. I hadn't realized how skimpy her flannel nightie was. I could see her nipples.

"Did you leave the room looking like that?"

She bit her lip trying not to laugh. "Right … as if Emmett and Jasper would even notice me."

"Well _I _noticed you," I muttered.

She carefully climbed over the bed and I sat up. I relieved her of one mug.

I kissed her soft mouth. "Had a nice sleep?"

She nodded. I scooted back until I was resting against the headboard. I beckoned to her to lean against me. We contemplated each other, our coffee and the day. "Coffee drinker, huh."

She wrinkled her nose at me. "Not really. I just like to smell it."

She told me Mrs. Cope was not done yet in her welcome home cooking. Lunch was going to be quite another spread.

"Oh," she said suddenly. She reached inside a hidden pocket. "Sorry, it got squished." It was a sandwich.

Instead of saying thank you, I frowned at her.

"It's a wonder this fit in your _little_ nightie at all," I grumbled.

I was irritated at the thought that another male – be it my own brother or my friend – had seen her in scanty clothing.

She sighed with exaggeration.

"Emmett has left the house and I didn't see Jasper. Mrs. Cope said he and Alice will go out for lunch." She couldn't quite keep from smirking.

I finished my sandwich in three bites, pretending to be still incensed.

She kissed my cheek and got off the bed. She crossed the room to where her bag was and took out her mobile. She returned to the bed and she handed it to me.

Her aunt's number. She whispered her full name to me.

"Let's take a quick shower," she said quietly. I placed her phone on the bedside table and followed her in the bathroom.

* * *

Thirty minutes later we were downstairs.

The only other occupant of the kitchen was Mrs. Cope. I was shocked at the food on the table.

"Is that …" I breathed. Roasted tomato pasta with capers, feta cheese, basil and chillies.

"Your mother's recipe," Mrs. Cope said cheerfully.

I pulled Bella to the table. I heaped a huge serving of the fettuccine and devoured my all-time favorite pasta with so much passion like it was …

I looked at Bella. Like it was _her_ …

I grinned at the unsuspecting girl. She blinked at me, taken aback by my hungry look.

'What?" she mouthed.

"Later," I replied. Sooner than later, I silently corrected myself.

When we had finished eating, I peeked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It would be 6:30pm in London. I brought Bella to the library.

"I'm going to make the call in my father's office. Would you wait for me here?"

She nodded, sat in one of the chairs and fidgeted. I kissed her, murmuring words to allay her nervousness, and left the room.

As I entered the study, I rehearsed what I was going to say.

Some men were born knowing how to act, what to say at the right time and at the right place. I would like to believe I was one of these men.

This conversation was going to be one of the most crucial I would have in my short years.

The phone rang twice before it was lifted.

I cleared my throat.

A curt voice snapped, "Duffin residence."

I gulped.

"Good evening. My name is Edward Cullen. May I speak to Mrs. Margret Duffin?"

"Mr. Cullen, I have been expecting your call." Her terseness was abruptly modified into a neutral, even friendly voice.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"How is my niece?" she asked.

"She is fine, ma'am."

I took a deep breath.

"I was in a hospital for two days due to a minor car mishap. Bella was with me but she wasn't hurt. Not physically," I added quickly.

"She was hysterical," Mrs. Duffin said unequivocally.

I grimaced.

"I'm afraid so, ma'am. My father is a doctor and we made sure only the best doctors looked after Bella while we were in the hospital." I paused. "Mrs. Duffin, my family and I care about your niece and we'd like to ensure that she remains stable …"

"This may sound too forward," I continued, "but I would like to ask you to trust me that I will do anything to make sure she will be okay." I finished in what I hope was a self-assured tone.

I firmed my voice and made the request for her medical records.

God, what would I do if she says no? Bella didn't need adult supervision but she was her aunt and her consent would spell a great difference.

I braced myself, knowing I would not accept a negative answer.

I heard her sigh.

I gritted my teeth, waiting.

"Mr. Cullen … Edward." She hesitated. "Why are you helping Bella?"

There was no avoiding this and I knew nothing was ever as simple as the truth.

"Because I'm in love with your niece."

There was a long pause before she spoke again. In the minute that I waited, I felt my heart skipping many beats.

"Expect her medical documents within the week, Edward." She reconfirmed to me the US address that I gave to Angela five days ago. "And Edward ..." Her tone was back to being blunt. "You may as well expect her mother soon."

I smiled humorlessly.

"Yes, I know, ma'am. Thank you for understanding."

"You'll have four more days with Bella," she said. "I don't think I need to inform her mother, Renee, of her whereabouts yet."

"_Thank you_, ma'am," I said with heartfelt gratitude.

"I ask one thing only," she said, her tone plain. "I want you to consider my words," she warned. "When you talk to Renee - be firm. Don't give in … and, fight for her." She couldn't quite hide her apprehension of the outcome of the impending meeting.

"You have my word, Mrs. Duffin."

"Now, put her on the phone."

"Err, she might not want -"

"I have given you no _trouble_, Edward. Go get my niece."

"Yes, ma'am."

Clutching the wireless phone, I took the stairs double time.

I opened the library door and placed the receiver carefully face down on a corner table. I strode to where Bella was sitting anxiously.

I grasped both of her hands and she looked at me in alarm. But I grinned at her and she relaxed.

"Bella, you have to do something for me."

She nodded, looking at me warily.

"Say hello to your aunt."

"N-no -"

"You have to, baby, for me," I said softly, kissing her.

She sighed against my mouth. I leaned away. She nodded reluctantly.

I handed her the wireless phone.

I turned to leave but she gripped my arm so I stayed with her. Her hand holding the receiver was trembling.

"Aunt Marge," she mumbled. She gulped air and closed her eyes.

From her flushed face, she was being scolded and reprimanded. I squeezed her hand.

She looked at me, reflexively nodding her head at whatever her aunt was telling her.

Since she was looking at me, I assume the topic was about me.

I suddenly felt my face getting warmer as well. I had told her aunt that I loved her but I had yet to tell her these words myself.

"I will, Aunt Marge," she finally said after what seemed five minutes of one-sided conversation. "I'm sorry. I was very irresponsible," she whispered. Two more minutes and she clicked off the receiver.

She gave me a wobbly smile.

I told her what her aunt and I talked about.

"I haven't asked your permission for your medical records," I said.

"I don't mind, Edward," she said quietly.

We sat in silence for awhile, each lost in our own thoughts.

In a way, we had progress today. We would soon get the necessary medical papers and we could move forward from there.

And, I thought with no small measure of gratitude towards her aunt, I have four more days with Bella before her mother, presumably, arrives in Chicago.

I hadn't realized we had been too quiet when I felt Bella's soft sighing. I kissed her forehead, not disturbing her sleep. She was tired too frequently lately. I dismissed it as the after-effects of the weekend collision.

I carefully laid her fully on the sofa so she would be more comfortable.

I gazed down at her. On second thought, I should bring her to bed. I did just that. I lifted her body and carried her upstairs.

While Bella was napping, I called Esme. I smiled faintly, listening to my mother chattering about how excited she was about coming home.

After 30 minutes, I called car repairs to make sure my Volvo would be delivered as scheduled. I also contacted the police department to inform them that I plan to personally give the required statement in a few days.

All done, then.


	31. Like a god

I don't plan on reading anything **Stephenie Meyer **wrote, except Twilight+234 and the Twilight-Edward version that she'll probably sell when her yearly income falls below $1 million (by that time, most of us wouldn't care anymore).

**Chapter31/Like a god**

I returned to my room and sat on my couch, watching Bella sleep. I ran my fingers through my hair, thinking of the next few days.

I sighed.

Alice left two hours ago. She attempted to "have a word" with me again but Jasper interrupted, to my relief.

I might have escaped my sister, but Emmett was not done yet.

"Are you sure?" he asked me, apparently unwilling to let go of the subject. Not this time.

I nodded, waiting for his reaction.

He pulled me with him and we went out to the porch.

"You'll be alright?"

I blinked dumbly at him. Would I be alright _what?_

But I looked him squarely in the eye and nodded again.

Emmett said nothing for several seconds, but his chin jutted forward.

"Fucking difficult to be your older brother right now, do you know that, you lovesick fool?"

I laughed, relieved.

"Fine," he said finally, making a decision. "Whatever Edward, I'll back you up. Carlisle's not going to like this," he warned.

I agreed. This had to happen soon.

* * *

We were going to have too much adult guidance soon, I thought wearily, watching Bella now.

I was thinking adult _control_ but that wouldn't be in my case. I looked at her and I sighed again.

I gave my head a mental shake.

I didn't bother to pretend that I had no idea what would happen next.

I clenched my fists. I shot Bella another aggravated look.

I had no doubt that her mother - and maybe even Carlisle too if I fail to convince him - would insist that her daughter live with her. I told myself that it would be alright so long as they remain in Chicago. But what if her mother moves back to Miami or Boston?

I closed my eyes.

The soft music I had put on crept under my skin, relaxing me.

_Don't think too much, Cullen. Let it be. _

* * *

When the sun had just set, I woke up.

My skin was tingling and there was rose-colored warmth permeating the room.

A soft touch, as light and indistinct as air itself, ran slowly up my arm. I turned my head and there she was. The room was shadowy but I could see her pale face in the faint light coming from the windows.

I stared at her, uncertain of her mood. She looked dreamy and awed at the same time.

For a moment, I didn't move, mesmerized by her expression.

I let out a long breath. She heard it.

"I wish …" She began shyly, but she stopped.

I tilted my head inquiringly at her.

"I wish I was as … as god-like as you," she whispered.

I felt the heat of her skin and I knew she was blushing. I wanted to say something in return but I couldn't think of anything to say.

I was aware, and modesty be damned, that I was not so bad, judging by the reaction from the opposite sex. I had been called "handsome" and a dozen of its synonyms. But being called a _god _by this woman was …

I shuddered.

"Edward …"

She reached out to me with both hands and I took them and raised her hands to my lips.

"You're beautiful," I whispered fervently.

"N-no I'm not," she said and she sounded … stricken.

I frowned, mentally kicking myself for I realized that I had never – not even once – told her out loud that she was beautiful. All the praises I ever gave her was inside my fucking head.

"Bella, you're all I've ever wanted."

"I'm n-not like Tanya -"

"Thank god."

She chewed on her lower lip as she tried to decide how to take my reaction.

I leaned down and brushed the lightest of kisses on her lips. She shifted away and placed her finger in my mouth.

"You were ... bad," she breathed. "With your words … in the hospital. I-I liked it."

She repeated a word, and another one. I sucked in a breath, my cock was instantly hard. I thanked all the deities - using my entire cache of hyperbole sexual slang - for giving me this most responsive female.

She curled her fingers in my hair and I crushed her mouth to mine. My hands moved to her waist and I lifted her up carrying her to bed without breaking the kiss.

She was on her back in the bed and I pressed closer. I flipped her skirts higher up her waist and she parted her thighs.

I smelled her, fucking smelled her arousal and it made me crazy.

I ripped her panties and slid two fingers inside her, exploring and finding her spongy spot. I massaged the hidden flesh harder until she was moaning and my hand was soaking wet.

"I can't be gentle," I growled.

I felt her hand in my neck go up further to my head and she pulled my hair hard. I crushed my mouth to hers, my tongue on hers.

I yanked the buttons of my pants open and spreading her thighs wider, my hand under her, I raised her to me and pushed forward.

She gasped, stretched and squirmed.

I withdrew and plunged my cock deep inside her again and again, grinding my hips against her.

She dug her nails into my shoulders and tensing, she screamed her climax.

I leaned down, bit her neck and convulsed inside her. She arched against me and let out a shaky, breathy sigh.

I held myself still, pressing inside her. I stayed where I was until I softened … only, it didn't happen I was still hard. I laughed soundlessly. It had been five days. The very brief bathroom sex didn't count. Damn fucking too long since I had touched her like this.

Gritting my teeth, I eased out of her with a grunt. I sat up and pulled my t-shirt over my head. I got off the bed to pull my pants down and when I turned back to her, Bella was on her hands and knees, staring at my cock.

I stood still.

She ran her tongue along her bottom lip and I forgot to breathe.

She crawled to me and sat at the edge of the bed. She was breathing raggedly.

I watched as she reached out and wrapped her soft hand around my cock. She raised bright eyes to me. "Tell me what to do," she whispered.

My stomach muscles tightened and my hips bucked forward when she used both hands to squeeze me gently. I covered her small hand to make a fist around my bulge and guided her in a slow pumping motion. At her "Please …" I groaned harshly. She tightened her grasp around me.

I told her what to do, how to touch me, and I wasn't fucking delicate about it.

I tried to push aside my greed; stilled my hips from moving, from using her mouth like I fucking wanted to. I felt her lips sucking, her tongue licking and I gasped when I felt the back of her throat.

_Oh god_ she was a fucking _natural._

Every muscle in my body was straining to pull her up and pound into her until she was screaming again.

My dazed eyes cleared and I looked down at her. The sight of her mouth on me was enough to make me spill inside her mouth.

"Bella -" I gulped. "You don't have to take it all in, baby -"

She looked up at me and sucked me deeper inside her throat. I hissed but I was fucking screaming inside. I could _not_ come in her mouth!

When I felt my balls tightening, I gently held her head and I slipped out. She whimpered but I grabbed her arms and quickly removed her clothes.

I lifted her up against me and I captured a pebbled nipple, hungrily sucking on it. Her hands grabbed my hair, pulling. I almost threw her on the bed.

Bella sat up and licked my neck, my shoulder and collarbone. She clawed my chest and bit my skin, her lips tugging at my nipples.

I grasped her head and I fused my mouth with hers. She let out her fucking sexy little gasps.

I pushed her on her back and pivoted her hips; her legs raised, knees bent. I positioned myself between her legs, kneeling, and buried my cock deep inside her as I could. She moaned loudly, dragging her nails down my chest.

I leaned on her legs, my cock stroking her most sensitive spot repeatedly. She cried out and bit her bottom lip. I pulled all the way out and slowly slid back in, gliding over her swollen clit. She had the tightest, dripping _wet_ -

I brought her knees high and with my back straight I plunged deeper to the hilt. She screamed and shuddered around me, arching her back.

I collapsed atop her, shaking. Drained.

I rolled off of her when I could think again.

"Beautiful," I whispered, holding her head in one hand and turning her to me, to make sure she heard me.

She smiled and slowly drifted off.

* * *

I watched her sleeping for hours. When I couldn't wait for her anymore, I woke her up with kisses.

Sometime later we slept. And then we made love again. Frantic and a little desperate.

An hour's light sleep. And a gentle, slow love this time.

"Edward -"

I kissed her neck and looked at her radiant face. I waited for her to speak. Her lips opened but she made no more sound. Her eyes filled with tears.

I breathe in her strawberry scent. I leaned down and tongued a swollen nipple.

Bella stifled a moan, biting her lower lip.

My large hand glided over her belly up to her breast, cupping the soft mound. I firmed my tongue and laved her pink bud harder.

"Later," I groaned, slipping two fingers inside her in a slow, pressing caress. "We'll talk later …"

* * *

*****a/n**

Love all your reviews, thanks!


	32. Parental guidance

**Stephenie Meyer**, who owns Twilight, dreams of vampires.

**Chapter32/Parental guidance**

Carlisle and Esme arrived mid-morning the next day.

I looked sleepy and tired when I strolled into the living room to await them but inside I was rip-roaring, fuck-me happy as a dog with two tails.

I was awakened by Alice earlier.

Her knocking, while not that loud and not that insistent, tumbled me right off the bed. I unthinkingly called out to her that I was up but Bella didn't wake up, to my relief.

We finally slept around 4:30am but even exhausted, we still talked. I grinned like a fool, remembering our conversation.

"I've never been on a date before, Edward," she whispered drowsily.

I hugged her closer as we cuddled, spooning. I brushed her sweaty but still smells like strawberry hair, and kissed it.

I was about to say "me too" but I said instead, "Do you want to?"

She nodded and I could tell she was blushing. I touched her face lightly to confirm that. Her soft skin was hot. I kissed the back of her neck.

"Tomorrow night," I promised. "Or _tonight," _I corrected myself. "We'll go out, just the two of us."

"As a -" She trailed off.

"Yes, Bella," I teased her. "Our first date."

"Wouldn't that be too late? Isn't dating a courtship?"

"Who said I'm done courting you?"

"But you don't need to do that," she said with a slight shrug.

"My parents still date as do most of the couples I know, Bella. It is part of the, err, romance thing."

I barely stopped myself from blurting "romance crap". It wasn't how I see dating anyway. Also, I had never participated in the social activity so how the hell should I know?

"Where are we going?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"Go to sleep." I tucked the blanket around her shoulders. "I'll surprise you, okay?"

She reached out her hand and caressed my scruffy jaw. I pulled her back closer to my chest. She was asleep in minutes …

* * *

"Edward!" Alice nearly shrieked at me. I winced. It was never a good sign when my sister was yelling.

"Did you hear what I just said?"

"Sorry," I finally replied, my voice a bit hoarse.

She stared at me for a long time.

I looked around and another pair of eyes were on me.

I sighed, running my hand through my hair. It felt like my clumps of hair were spikes sticking straight up.

I yawned hugely, slowly unfolding my languid body in the big armchair, and stretching my tired muscles. I groaned appreciatively.

My sister's jaw slackened and opened in awe. Then she giggled.

"I think I saw more than your esophagus, brother," she said half-amused, half-disgusted.

I lazily grinned at her, crossing my arms.

At exactly 10am, my parents arrived.

Mom cried as usual, embracing her only daughter. One would think she has not seen her in years instead of just one month. Emmett wrapped his arms around Esme while she was hugging Alice.

When it was my turn to be enfolded in her motherly arms, Esme held my face close to hers and looked directly in my eyes – her mirror image of jade eyes to my emerald, her red-auburn hair to my bronze.

She gazed up at me for a long time searching my face for something, and then her mouth turned up in a sly, conspiratorial smile.

Finally she embraced me, whispering, "You have changed."

My tongue felt thick and I didn't know how to answer that.

"Son," my father said.

My mother released me and I turned to Carlisle.

We shook hands.

"Where's your Bella?"

"Carlisle … what did we talk about?" My mother gently admonished my father, pulling him away.

"Ignore your father, Edward," she said but there was a curiosity in her that could not be repressed. I was about to satisfy her curiosity when Mrs. Cope's exuberant entrance distracted all of us.

The family spent the next hour exchanging updates.

I found it equally annoying and amusing that not one of them mentioned Bella's name again.

When Esme was not looking however, Carlisle and I communicated silently.

_What have you been up to, son?_

_I'm taking full responsibility, Dad._

_You better know what you're doing …_

_I'm going 20, Dad. _

_I don't care if you're 50!_

"So, what have you been up to?"

My mother's sudden voicing of the silent query made me snort.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Bella, of course." There I said it. Let's all talk about her now.

Alice made a happy sound and she jumped up from her chair. We all turned to her.

She skipped to where Bella was standing quietly. No one even noticed her hovering in the hallway.

Startled by Alice's waving her hand suddenly in her direction, Bella looked at me, her eyes wide.

I stood up and walked to her, firmly taking her hand and signaling to Alice to make the introductions. I didn't have to tell her, she was half-way through the pleasantries.

"Mom, Dad, this is Bella!"

Bella, wearing one of Alice's chosen dresses for her, walked hesitatingly to where my parents were sitting.

Esme grasped Bella's hands and pulled her in for a hug. I was surprised to catch my father receive her with an embrace, too.

I watched Bella. I hadn't realized until that moment just how much it meant to her how my family opened our home, and our lives, to her.

"Come sit by me, Bella. Edward, go over there and stop hovering," Mom said in that superior tone she seemed to reserve for her sons and daughter.

My father turned to me and murmured, "If you have someplace to go with your girl here today, forget it."

I let out a disappointed sigh.

But no, I promised Bella a date and we would be in one tonight.

I opened my mouth to reply but my sister grabbed my arm and pushed me to a chair opposite my parents and Bella.

I sagged into the armchair, my hand raking my messy hair. They better not turn this into an open interview or something.

"… in Chicago?" my mother was saying to Bella. I missed the first part of her question but it was safe to assume she was asking her if this was her first time in Chicago.

"Yes, Mrs. Cullen. I-I was born in Boston," she volunteered shyly.

Bella was sitting primly between my parents, her hands resting on her lap. She was wearing a light blue dress with a fitted bodice. She was as always, pretty and demure.

I had been lazily eyeing her smooth legs. There was nothing sexy in her pose or gestures now, but this was my Bella she could be standing motionless, in a plain brown sack, and still looked beautiful.

I looked up to see her gazing at me with a gentle expression, her eyes huge and seemed lighted from within.

_"I will get better, Edward."_ Her eyes told me.

It was her words of before, the first morning I brought her here. _"I will get better for you."_

"… just Esme," my mother rushed to say, patting her hand familiarly.

I raked my hand in my hair again, not taking my eyes off her.

Alice was now telling my parents about what she and Bella did the other day at the spa. She was funny at it and had Emmett booming with laughter.

My sister shot me a slightly impish look. "And then Edward here had to go have an accident."

My father seemed to take that as his cue to say, "I understand Victoria, that is, Dr. Weisberger talked to you, Bella." He turned to me, "that reminds me, Edward, you need to have a session with her, too. I'd insist on it."

I groaned, but I nodded, acquiescing. It was best to just agree with Carlisle when it comes to anything connected with hospitals and well-being.

My father turned back to Bella and started asking her about her own well-being.

Two splotches of red burned her cheeks. I tensed, ready to spring and come to her defense.

Alice beat me to it.

"Oh, Daaaad," she said, walking over to sit beside Carlisle. For once, I didn't mind her I'm-father's-favorite voice. "No hospital talks here, please."

Bella seemed to be getting tired, stressed as she probably was at the moment.

She brought her hand to her mouth to cover a small yawn.

Emmett, on the aside, muttered, "Jesus, bro, do you ever let her sleep?"

I rubbed my hand over my face and snorted. I was saved from making a retort when Mrs. Cope came around with Jasper and … Rosalie. _Great._

Mrs. Cope invited everyone out on the back porch for lunch and I got up and was about to escort Bella out, but my father was nearer. He whispered something in her ear and she smiled. She looked relaxed with him so I decided to give them time to get to know each other.

I turned to my sister while the others went outside.

"We … err." I cleared my throat, suddenly red-faced. "We're going out tonight." And I didn't say anything anymore.

Alice lurched back in surprise.

"You? _On a date?_"

I shifted restlessly, not liking her shocked expression. Was I that bad? Do I treat women badly?

"Come on, Alice. Where should I take Bella?"

She grinned and a speculative glint was in her eyes.

"Leave it all to me," she said, already busy planning.

She linked her arm through mine.

"All you have to do is show up, okay?"

* * *

As soon as we were on the porch, she abandoned me and ran back inside to do god knows what.

Everyone's seated and to my annoyance, Bella was sitting between my mother and Rosalie. I turned an accusing stare at Jasper who just shrugged.

Giving her a reassuring smile, I resigned myself to the seat opposite Bella. I wanted to hold her hand but I guess that would have to wait.

Rosalie intercepted my suspicious look and she crossed her arms mutinously. I was now more convinced that her arrival was a bad, bad idea.

"Honey, we're going to have a party," my mother said, squeezing Rosalie's hand. Oh, her idea, was it?

"We always give you one whenever you're back in town, Esme," she said.

Rosalie smiled sweetly at Bella and added, "Besides, Bella hasn't met anyone here yet. Right, Bella? Aren't you curious to meet _all_ of Edward's friends?"

Bella bit her lower lip and looked at me. I knew I should remain silent and agreeable, but the moment has become uncomfortable.

"It's Mom's friends who will be here, not mine," I said casually.

"I'm certain you're right," Esme said with a wave of her hand.

"Still, can I invite everyone else's, Esme? And Barbara's hosting it for you here because we know you prefer your house for these things," Rosalie said in an increasingly needling tone.

I sighed. I should have known Tanya would be in it, too, since her mom's throwing the party. If Barbara Gregg-Sheaffer's hosting it, everyone will come.

"How lovely," my mother said, clasping her hands together in delight.

She smiled at Bella. "I can't wait to introduce you to my friends, Bella."

"Mom," I interrupted.

Bella murmured an assent.

"Thank you, dear," she said, whispering conspiratorially. "And since you're going Bella, my son here will have to make an appearance, finally." She reached across the table and patted my cheek.

I sighed again. I never attend these things, even if my own mother or my sister was the host. Jasper and I would usually find someplace else to go, if the prick could get away from Alice, which was not always.

After lunch, and it was thankfully short because my mother was a little jet-lagged, I dragged Bella inside the house and back to my room.

"Alright?" I sat on the couch and pulled her beside me.

"I liked your parents, Edward," she said quietly.

"And this party?"

She smiled. "I'd like to be there, too."

"Sure?"

Something flickered in her eyes but it was too quick for me to interpret the look.

"Yes," she murmured. "I'm sure."


	33. Normal

**Stephenie Meyer's **Twilight series was on the New York Times' bestsellers list for 140 weeks.

**Chapter33/Normal**

I walked into the living room and overheard Alice telling Esme what had happened in the spa during meditation exercises.

I sank on an armchair and indicated to my sister to continue.

She eyed me warily, but she continued on with her story.

"Bella was … I think I heard her chanting, Mom," she said, frowning.

I turned and I caught my mother's questioning eyes. I looked away.

"What was she saying?" from Esme.

"I don't know. It was gibberish talk, almost like a different language."

My mother encouraged Alice to be more specific. My sister threw me a helpless look.

"Mom, I'm not sure now. I only know that at the time, she was acting, really, really weird."

I sat up straight suddenly, realizing that I had witnessed Bella "chant" before. It was in the hospital, when she was acting up. I remembered that she was panicking because she had thought that she would be confined indefinitely in the hospital, as if I could ever leave her there.

Then, Bella tried to explain to me what had been done to her when she was a child, in her previous confinement and how she went through shock treatment. That was when she started mumbling, gripping her hands hard. It had scared the fuck out of me.

I forced my mind back to the present.

My sister was now relating Bella's reaction to the small pool at the spa.

I felt my jaw tense.

"She didn't want to go in no matter how much I tried to convince her, Mom. I thought, maybe, she didn't know how to swim and was too embarrassed to tell me," said Alice. "But then when I was in the water, I heard a splash and Bella was in the pool."

"She looked at me as if I wasn't even there. Her face was … serene," my sister continued. "I swam to her and tried to talk to her … about the scented water and that it was actually spring water … but she wasn't responding."

Alice looked at me squarely. "She was just floating in the water, ignoring me."

Mother and daughter pondered this for a few moments then both turned to me.

"It has happened before," I said quietly, unwilling to say anymore.

"How? When?" from Alice.

Esme flicked her hand, effectively silencing my sister's rapid questions. She patted my hand comfortingly.

"Honey, she's on therapy now. I know Victoria and she's very good at what she does."

I was having that familiar gut-wrenching feeling I have when I think of Bella and her condition. It was like a ticking bomb. A huge, sudden, crushing bomb that was about to go off any minute now.

"I know, Mom," I murmured, hoping she was right.

* * *

My heart was pounding.

And there was Bella, smiling prettily. She was beautiful in floral, print lace casual clothing. My sister was helping her put on a cream-colored cardigan, clucking like a mother hen.

I hung back, making polite conversation with Jasper, but we were both staring at the two women, fascinated by some ritual that Alice seems to be performing: plating Bella's hemline for no apparent reason, checking and re-checking her small purse and removing, re-inserting colorful little objects inside.

Jasper turned to me and blinked, and I answered with an amused shrug.

My parents had left an hour ago for their own dinner date. They were meeting one of their closest friends on their first night home. Emmett and Alice would be joining them later.

I declined my father's invitation to join them and to my surprise, my mother did not insist that we go with them.

I looked closely at Bella. Was she really okay with this? Granted, it would only be a simple, quiet dinner, just the two of us, but still it would be a roomful of people.

Alice has efficiently arranged our dinner program for the evening, and knowing my sister, I was not expecting any problem tonight, as far as preparations go. She even called Volvo to send a temporary replacement for my car while it was still being repaired.

Her only condition to helping me was that after dinner, we would be joining her and the rest of the group at The 54 Bar. I wasn't sure that was a good idea, though. Obviously, Bella was not the type to go clubbing, at all.

"Relax, Edward. We took her there before and nothing happened," my sister argued earlier.

I caught Alice's eye now and she nodded.

Bella was ready.

I smiled at her, and it would be really difficult for anyone to miss the satisfied expression on my face.

"I'm sorry you have to wait," she whispered to me, linking her small hand with mine.

"Worth it," I said, lifting her hand to my lips.

Alice hurried us out of the house and into the replacement car. She and Jasper were having their own dinner somewhere before meeting my parents.

I drove in my usual speed and de-accelerated only when I heard Bella gasp, clutching her purse convulsively.

"Sorry," I murmured. I grasped her small hand and squeezed. I moderated my driving speed, remembering belatedly our most recent car accident.

After several minutes, I felt Bella looking at me and I turned to her.

"I … I can't dance, Edward," she said.

"Where did that came from?"

"In case you're taking me somewhere where there's dancing."

I laughed.

"Even the simplest of steps?" I prompted.

She cleared her throat delicately.

"Sorry, no."

I gently squeezed her hand again.

"Relax, Bella, I won't let you trip or abuse my poor feet," I teased.

_The Patio_, which was a maze of commercial establishments, also houses one of the best regional restaurants in Chicago. These were small settings usually, but very intimate. It was why my sister and I chose this place.

I drove into the common outdoors parking lot and walked briskly around the car to open Bella's door.

We walked the short distance to the restaurant but I kept distracting Bella with some of the colorful and interesting store displays. She even stopped in one of the toy shops and gazed fixedly at a cute, but spooky-looking doll with fangs.

"Do you want that?" I asked her. She shook her head and I smiled with no small relief. I wouldn't want to wake up to that little vampire doll sitting on our bed.

We entered the lodge-designed restaurant and a female host escorted us to our corner table, thankfully away from the other diners.

I asked Bella if the menu selections were okay with her, which was mostly farm fresh produce and hickory smoked-flavored chicken meat - the all American rustic lodge fine-dining experience, I thought with amusement. She nodded her approval and we both chose cheese entree, chicken and spinach as main course, served with coleslaw and cornbread.

And then the waiter offered the wine list. I was about to wave this off when Bella stopped me.

"Can I, please?" she said, her face pink with anticipation.

"Bella …" I hesitated.

"May I suggest Shiraz or Chianti, sir, ma'am," the waiter said, thinking that he was being helpful.

"Oh, that sounds good!" Bella was quick to encourage him.

"No, too strong," I muttered, and before he could suggest another wine, I politely but firmly said thank-you-that'd-be-all. Alcoholic beverages, especially red wine, and neuroleptic drugs don't mix well.

Bella pouted and looked away.

I smirked a little.

"What can I do to make you smile again?" I said softly, tone low.

She quickly glanced at me, doubtless gauging my sincerity.

"No dancing?"

"Fine. What else?"

I saw the corners of her mouth twist.

"A movie."

"You want to watch a movie tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Done."

That wasn't in the program but Alice need not know we plan to divert from her carefully laid out evening.

Dinner, sans the wines, went on smoothly. I was dying for cold beer after eating the spicy-flavored chicken but like Bella, I settled for iced lemonade. Maybe I could put vodka on my lemonade, at least? I was eyeing the discreet, corner bar when Bella attracted my attention.

"What are we watching tonight?"

No idea what was on these days. I rarely go out for movies and never with a female companion. There were a few movie theaters on the south side but these were small movie houses, usually showcasing indie films. Best to go for the commercially released movies for this night.

"You choose," I said.

The mall's upper levels, for the shoppers' and diners' convenience, have three small movie theaters. Not much to choose from but to my surprise, Bella picked a romantic drama.

We bought the tickets, the popcorn – she insisted on it – and settled inside the semi-lighted movie house. We barely made it, the movie starting 15 seconds after we sat down.

About 10 minutes into the film, I could tell that this was an artsy movie, and not conventional in the way of love stories. I quickly dismissed it, and focused all of my attention on the girl beside me, sitting quietly, popcorn forgotten.

I was slumped comfortably in the big movie chair. I took Bella's hand in mine and she glanced at me with a smile.

There was something about the dark that made the experience of watching a movie intimate. There were other people around us but somehow invisible, unimportant.

I could feel Bella's soft breath in the air; feel her smooth skin when I brushed my hand against her arm with a pretense of taking the popcorn from her. I put this on the empty seat to my right.

She leaned her head on my shoulder. I breathed in her sweet perfume, inhaling her natural scent. She sighed and settled more closely against my side.

The movie was a blur. I was disconnected from everything else except Bella. In the dark, the pieces of the puzzle that was Bella seem to merge into a whole _her_, and I was no longer conflicted.

It was only when the credits rolled up and the dimness was pierced by sudden light that I was roused from my little bubble.

Bella leaned closer and kissed my jaw.

"Thank you," she said.

I lifted her hand and kissed her open palm.

We left the theater and slowly walked to where the car was parked.

"How was the movie?"

She giggled.

"You weren't watching, I could tell."

"Yeah."

I admitted my inattention at once. I kissed the top of her head in apology.

"It was my first movie in a big movie house," she said quietly.

I stopped walking and cupped her face.

"The movie was about two normal people, having a normal relationship in normal but sometimes complex situations. Perfect dialogues and it was an expected ending to their normal love story," I said, stroking her cheeks. "Do you want us to be like Peter and Vandy?"

"No," she said, uncertain, then more firmly, "Yes."

"So we will be. We'll be so ridiculously normal," I told her with an easy grin, "that we'll need to go for couples' therapy, from time to time."

She laughed.

We had reached the car and I opened her door for her.

This time, I was conscious of driving slowly.

The evening was still young. We were supposed to meet Alice and Emmett at the club later tonight. I sighed, thinking of the loud music there. I have to be vigilant or Alice would take the first opportunity to drag Bella on the dance floor.

I felt rather than saw Bella scoot closer to me inside the car.

"Edward?"

I inclined my head towards her, waiting.

"Have you ever …?"

"What?"

"… made love in a car?"

I accidentally stepped heavy on the gas and the car jerked forward fast. I quickly got control of the vehicle.

I glanced at her but having said what she wanted to say, she was now looking away.

"Bella, look at me," I said. When she did, I cracked a smile. "Did you just _ask _me to have sex with you in a borrowed car?" I wanted to laugh but her face was so serious-looking, as if she expected rejection.

"I was just wondering …" She squeaked, shy now.

I saw a wide shoulder at the side of the empty road and slid in. I put the car on park and cut off the engine. I waited for her to turn my way again.

When she did, I gathered her in my arms and kissed her softly. We kissed slowly, languidly, for a long time.

"A lot of pointed objects inside a car," I said huskily, biting her bottom lip. "The gearshift, the hand break." I licked the inside of her mouth. "And it could get really messy."

I pulled her closer to me, but resisting any attempt to bring her on my lap.

"The gearshift will poke you from behind and that's very, very uncomfortable." I rubbed her backside and squeezed.

My other hand cupped her face and kissed her deeply, our tongues tangling.

"And I don't want you to bump your head on the roof."

I brushed her hair from her warm face and kissed the tip of her nose.

"We could do it in the back seat, it's roomy." I slid my mouth to her throat and sucked soft skin there. She gasped, and moaned. "I have to raise your legs high up, your feet will touch the ceiling …"

"Or, push your knees up to your chest for deep, and deeper fucking," I said, slightly breathless. "Do you want that?"

She nodded, mute and from the beat of her heart and the pant of her breath, I knew she was aroused.

I kissed her a little roughly this time. I stopped abruptly and gently settled her back in her seat. She made a sound when I re-started the engine.

"We'll borrow the Hummer," I said, smiling.

She harrumphed and crossed her arms, looking determinedly anywhere but me.

I chuckled silently to myself, adjusting my tight pants.

Alice with her perfect timing as always, was calling.

"Where are you!"

I could hear loud music in the background.

"We're on our way," was all I said.

* * *

We arrived at the club in less than 15 minutes. I held Bella's arm as she was getting out of the car.

"Are you mad at me?" I watched her still pink face.

"No," she said, sighing.

I kissed her cheek and led her inside.

The club's patrons were mostly college kids from nearby universities, including Emmett's and Rosalie's school. There were some young professionals about, too.

We were shown to Alice's table immediately. She pulled Bella for a hug and without asking her, ordered a non-alcoholic beverage for her.

I texted Alice a message -_No dancing-_

She looked at me when she received the SMS and she nodded. No arguments, thank god.

Bella glued herself to my side for the rest of the evening.

Emmett and Rosalie were dancing when we arrived and they were still at it. Bella laughed when Emmett spotted her and gyrated lewdly for her benefit.

"Ignore my brother," I said close to her ear. I couldn't help darting out my tongue and licking her earlobe. She shivered.

I observed Bella's reaction to the loud music and the crowd. So far, she was okay with it, and dare I hope that she was having a little fun, too?

She stiffened when Rosalie sauntered to our table, leaving Emmett with another blonde.

"Look at him shaking that ass," Rosalie said, smug.

I rolled my eyes at her.

"Edward!" shrieked someone excitedly.

A bubbly, curly-haired, bosomy female slid beside me and turned my face for a wet kiss.

I jerked away from her and grabbed both her hands to prevent her from further groping my lower regions.

"Jessica! Will you stop that?" I gritted out when she tried to sink her nails inside my shirt and my pants.

Rosalie laughed and Alice exclaimed in surprise when fucking Jessica, undaunted and obviously drunk, clumsily climbed on my lap.

I hastily pushed her off me and darted a panicked glance at Bella. She was staring wide-eyed at us, frozen. I inwardly groaned at the sight of her pale face.

"Oh, Edward! I missed you soooo much!"

The woman was about to maul my mouth again when Alice jumped up from her chair and inserted herself between us. She held her off.

"Jessica! So surprised to see you!" She shook and pumped her hand vigorously. "Have you met Edward's girlfriend? This is Bella!"

That put a dampener on her enthusiasm.

"His girlfriend?" she asked stupidly, mouth hanging open. "But Edward doesn't do girlfriends." She blinked owlishly at me. "Do you?"

I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath.

"Bella, this is Jessica, she's … err, Alice's friend." I took Bella's hand and stroked her thumb reassuringly, willing her to look at me. When she did, I was surprised at her wild expression.

"I want to leave now, Edward."

"Bella," from my sister, trying to soothe her, "it's really ok -"

"Alice," I interrupted, making a decision and getting up, I pulled Bella along with me.

Jessica was groaning, almost pathetically crying.

"Edward, don't leave, please …"

I turned to my sister and asked her to say our goodbyes. "And bring Jessica home, will you? She's had too much to drink!"

I wasn't sure who was dragging who when we left the club.

There was a striking, quivering energy in Bella that was both frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

As soon as I slammed the car door closed, I turned to her.

"Bella -"

"_Drive._"

I wasn't positive, but I thought I heard growling.

I was in a hurry to be home that I forgot to drive at an easier pace. I jumped an inch when Bella grabbed my leg. She slid up her hand and started to unbutton my jeans.

"Bella -" I gulped.

She leaned closer and fumbled with the buttons of my jeans. I swerved the car to the side of the road and killed the ignition.

As soon as the car was parked, Bella grabbed the back of my head and kissed me open-mouthed with uncontrolled brutality and wanting her so much, at this moment, I gave in to her.

I needed to be inside her, to sink into her, more than I needed oxygen.

I managed to drag our mouths apart and to lower the driver's seat to horizontal, pushing the seat back as far as it could go. Thank fucking god this car has a wider front seat than my Volvo's. I reclined in my seat and I pulled her up and on top of me until she was a-straddle.

She managed to wiggle her panties down her legs while I ripped open my fly. There were no words, and no time for foreplay. I grabbed her sex and tested her for her readiness. She was fucking pulsing already.

I pushed at the steering wheel when she pulled my cock out and without pausing I pulled her down on my erection, hard, impaling her to the hilt. She bit off a half-scream.

"Edward!" she moaned, keening.

I pulled her towards me until she was crouching over my body. I thrust up inside her, urging her to ride me. I leaned her further forward when she started moving to avoid bumping her head on the roof.

She raked her nails down my chest and I egged her on to move faster and harder. She was so fucking tight!

I palmed her tits roughly and slipped my other hand down her heaving belly to her swollen clit, rubbing furiously. "Oh! Oh! God!" she panted, crying, grabbing my hair hard.

My cock swelled and pulsed when I felt her contracting around me and I thrust up so hard, I spilled a second before I felt her entire body shaking. She collapsed on top of me, trembling, boneless.

We were both sweaty and out of breath, the car windows heavy with condensation.

I stirred and sat up, hugging Bella's body to me. I brushed her damp hair away from her flushed face.

We stared at each other. Her brown eyes were dark, almost black. I stroked her face and waited until our breathing normalized.

She kissed me softly, whispering my name.

"Did I hurt you?" she murmured.

I laughed, hugging her closer.

* * *

Ten minutes later, we were outside of the car and she was smiling shyly up at me.

I held up her underwear to her, smirking.

She blushed.

I arched a brow at her.

"Ms. Swan, you just experienced your first, _normal_ teenage date … a movie _and_ sex in the car."

* * *

*****a/n**

Thanks for all the reviews!


	34. A little about the future?

Twilight's by** Stephenie Meyer**

**Chapter34/A little about the future?**

I groaned, resisting, pushing back wakefulness.

I felt playful fingers scratching at my chin.

"What?" I croaked.

"What are we doing today?"

"Dunno," I mumbled, not opening my eyes.

Roaming fingers were sliding past my neck, chest, and I smiled in anticipation when she lightly tickled my belly. When the traveling fingers stopped just below my navel, I frowned, waiting.

I cracked one eyelid open.

"What. Are. We. Doing. Today. Edward?"

Oh, like that?

"Hmm …"

"Hmm what?"

I stretched slowly, deliberately brushing her wrist against my groin.

"Depends."

"On?"

"That."

She laughed and seemed to be leaving the bed.

I opened my eyes.

"Hey, come back here."

She went over to my bookshelves and picked up something, a brochure? She dropped it on my chest.

I looked at it.

I raised my brow at her.

"Let's go there," she said, smiling.

"Sure?"

"Don't you want to go there?"

I eyed the paper in my hand.

The Bienen School of Music.

Alice slipped the info sheet inside my room months ago, along with other brochures of other music universities in the country. This was one of the nearest, she had told me, which I might consider besides the one in UofC.

I mentally shrugged. If Bella wants to go it was fine by me. The campus was in Evanston, just 10 miles or so away.

"Yeah, sure."

* * *

"Really?"

My mother smiled beatifically at me across the breakfast table.

"It was Bella's idea," I said, red-faced.

I knew exactly what Esme was thinking. She was hoping I was finally taking college seriously.

It wasn't a big deal. I got a few weeks more before Dartmouth closes its door on me, at least for the fall term. If I was looking for proximity, there was always UofC. My brother was already enrolled for September.

"How about Bella?"

"What about her?"

"Edward," she said gently, admonishing my slightly defensive tone. "Is she going to school, too?"

I was about to say yes, but I realized I really didn't know. She was home schooled and at 18, she should be bound for college, too.

I never asked Bella about school and well, I shouldn't wonder about that since I try not to think about it myself.

My mother briefly touched my hand to get my attention again.

"We'll figure it out."

I nodded, not wanting to discuss it anymore. I could hear Carlisle talking to Alice outside the kitchen.

When they joined us, I was surprised to find Bella was with them.

My mother patted the seat beside her when she entered the room.

"Edward," my father said. "I was just telling Bella that Dr. Weisberger's office called. You have an appointment today."

"Dad, we're going to Evanston," I protested.

Carlisle was about to reach for a toast but he paused, looking at me, frowning.

"Bienen?"

I stiffened, hearing disapproval in his voice. The pancake I was eating felt stuck in my throat.

"Great! They have a concert today. You should leave early," said Alice, unaware or, knowing her, completely ignoring Carlisle's tone.

I looked directly at my father, who was narrowing eyes on me.

This wasn't the time to launch into one of our overlong discussions about what I should do, which was take up medicine, as far as _he_ was concerned. I wasn't in the mood to hear his biased debate against me, probably choosing music as a career path, either.

"What time is the meeting with Victoria?" my mother hastily broke the staring contest.

"Four o' clock," Carlisle said tersely.

"Perfect!" piped in Alice. "The concert's mid-noon, which was weird really. Why are they holding it during lunchtime?" she said, prattling. "But it will be just 45 minutes so you have plenty of time for the drive back."

"Perfect!" my mother repeated, visibly relaxing.

* * *

"It's a small town?"

"It is. But the place's near Chicago so …" I shrugged.

That was part of the attraction. Living the small town experience but really, residents here were just an hour away from a major urban area.

We were early – owing to my driving too fast again - and I suggested trying one of the quaint little restaurants near the NU campus.

I called in ahead to reserve tickets for the concert and booked for a mid-morning information session for incoming freshmen at the admin hall. We could participate in the short campus tour before the concert.

We passed through tree-lined streets and I was happy to see Bella enjoying herself.

We opted to have tea and scones. Well, coffee for me and tea for her.

"Do they call them scones here, too?" she said, delicately munching on her piece. I grinned at her. I liked watching her eat.

"Biscuits," I said.

"That's a French word."

"No, biscuits is English and Le Bee-skwee is French," I said, smirking.

She threw crumbs at me.

"You should call them cookies," she insisted.

Too late, I had forgotten how passionate Bella was when it comes to pastries. Any minute now, she would be regaling me with the history of cookies.

"In fact …" She said, starting her cookies monologue no doubt, and I laughed.

She gave me a censoring look but the corner of her mouth twitched.

"Fine! It's a biscuit!" She shrugged. "Cookies are too plain for scones."

She reached across the table and stuffed a full bread in my mouth, laughing.

After chewing and swallowing, I stared at her for a full second and let my mouth form a satisfied smile. Inside my head I was practicing what I wanted to tell her, at that moment.

_I love you. _

I repeated it over and over again but everytime, it sounded too non-extraordinary.

_Bella, I fucking love you!_

Sounds more like me.

I laughed soundlessly.

I should tell her that.

Now.

What was I waiting for anyway?

I had a feeling that I should say it soon or it wouldn't matter anymore. Surely, I should say it now?

My lips were parting to say the three words when she jumped up and excused herself to go to the restroom.

I swore under my breath, shaking my head at my wimpyness.

But the moment was lost and when she came back, we were almost ready to leave.

The NU campus was fairly large it was hugging Lake Michigan.

It was a nice university town and I could easily picture living here with Bella. I was suddenly glad we were visiting. The future seemed clearer.

At her insistence, we drove around the allowed premises. Parking was full so we thought of cruising for several minutes. Our direction was the Pick-Staiger Concert Hall, which was along the campus boundaries called the Arts Circle Drive. It was a big hall, it could seat 1,000.

After 15 minutes, we hurried inside the admin hall for the tour. It was quick and not that informative but it gave us more perspective of the campus facilities.

Finally, inside the concert hall, the orchestral and string performers were doing pre-concert tuning and tweaking. The pianist was not on the stage yet.

I watched Bella looking around and then her eyes settled on the piano. Without turning to me, she smiled and squeezed my hand.

The pianist, a Russian-born American, strolled on stage and the audience perked up.

The performance was very good, which was not a surprise. The NU orchestra and music faculty were highly respected and generally known as excellent performers.

All too soon, the concert was over. We lingered awhile in the almost empty concert hall.

I was loathed to drive back to Chicago because waiting for us there, was Dr. Weisberger.

* * *

I glanced at Bella now. She was inspecting all the brochures she accumulated from the admin hall and all the buildings we visited.

"Find something you like?" I said.

She looked up at me with a guilty expression. That was odd, I thought, driving a little slower than usual.

"I don't know …"

"Okay then, let's pretend you're 10 years old," I said, nonchalant. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

She smiled at that, but stayed quiet.

I sighed. And then I sat up straighter, realizing.

_Fucking idiot, Cullen! _

When she was 10 years old she was being treated for child on-set schizophrenia, which was - I tried to recall the books I have read on the subject – 20 times worse than adult on-set schizophrenia.

I raked my hand in my hair, exhaling a long breath.

"I'm sorry, Bella."

She seemed to shake herself out of her memories and briefly smiled at me.

"I want to write," she said, sounding tentative, uncertain.

"Write what? Fiction, non-fiction. Journalism?"

"I just want to write something."

"Okay, good. That's something."

"Yeah, something."

She laughed and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Traffic was mild when we reached the UofC Medical Center campus less than an hour later.

I gripped Bella's hand while we were shown to the department's waiting area. Her tiny hand was not as cold as I feared. She seemed relaxed.

Dr. Weisberger came out of her office and greeted Bella warmly.

"Edward – may I call you Edward? Would you like to make this a joint session? Is that okay with you, Isabella?"

We both nodded and followed her inside her office. We sat on the three-seater sofa.

It was a psycho-therapist's clinic, alright. When I first came here, I had not noticed all the paraphernalia that seemed to surround a psychologist's domain. The whole office reminded me of my mother's own clinic, which was to say, I felt oddly comfortable being here.

"Edward, thank you for the medical files," she said, first off.

Bella's Aunt Marge, as promised, sent the medical records and it arrived earlier than anticipated.

Dr. Weisberger smiled at Bella.

"Tell me about your dreams since the accident, Isabella."

The dreams were mostly about cars going off cliffs and bursting into flames, she said. She dreamed of glass shattering and intrusive bright lights, which would wake her up briefly from time to time. Her voice was neutral, as if telling a story she had read as a child.

I was surprised to hear all this. I hadn't realized she was having continued nightmares about the accident.

"And you, Edward, what do you feel about Isabella and her dreams?"

"Surprised," I said honestly. "I was expecting a reaction of course, but I didn't think she would have nightly dreams about it."

"What about your own after-effects, from the accident?"

I shrugged. I felt suddenly guilty that I didn't have these similar dreams. I was knocked out of consciousness after the impact and the next thing I knew, I was in a hospital bed.

"Again, surprisingly … uneventful," I said, not meeting Bella's eyes.

"Why surprised?" Dr. Weisberger wasn't looking at me, but scribbling notes on her pad.

"Shouldn't I have these dreams, too?"

"No, there's no 'should' about it. You are coping in your own way."

"You mean I'm in denial?"

She laughed.

"Your father warned me about you, Edward. This isn't a debate. Either you have traumatic dreams," at this she looked sharply at the silent Bella, "or your brain will process the experience, accept it, move on, and worry about something else." Her look seemed to imply that the "something else" that was occupying my mind, was the girl sitting beside me.

I grumbled some assent, or feeble recognition of my father's opinions about me.

Nightmares were symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, I knew that. I was equally disturbed about the experience but perhaps, as the doctor said, I have pushed it out of my mind.

Dr. Weisberger switched to Bella again, obviously done with me.

"Do you like to swim, Isabella?"

This question startled Bella and she let go of my hand, which she had been holding tight.

"No."

"Why?"

"You've read my files, you know why."

"I want to know why, in your own words."

"When I was nine years old, I drowned ... I died. And they brought me back," she said unemotionally.

I jerked at her word "drowned" and dropped my jaw when she said "I died".

"Who brought you back?"

"Them."

Wait a minute … _what?_ I should have read her files! But common decency prevented me from snooping.

"Who, Isabella."

Bella wasn't replying anymore. I wanted to reach out and grasp her hand again but she was sitting with her arms crossed over her heaving chest.

"Are you alright?" I said quietly.

She wasn't alright damnit! But it was the first three lame words that popped out of my mouth. I looked helplessly at Dr. Weisberger who was sitting still. She was preternaturally calm versus Bella's agitated state.

"Do you want us to continue, Isabella?"

She was breathing through her nose. She looked as if she was going to ignore the doctor entirely. After several seconds, she shook her head "No".

The next five minutes – one of longest five minutes of my life – was spent with just me and Dr. Weisberger routinely probing my dismally boring PTSD. Bella's silence was the pink elephant in the room.

* * *

I didn't want to bring Bella home in this condition.

I drove around the central area aimlesslessly, thinking.

I decided to take her, finally, to a less popular shopping district. There was a little garden tea house in the area. It was quiet and perhaps what Bella might need right now.

I opened her door for her and we walked slowly through the garden. I had forgotten that there was a fountain in the middle of the tree-lined patio. I felt her stiffen when she heard the rush of water and I quickly veered away into the deeper, quieter part of the garden.

She didn't talk and I didn't make her.

"Edward?" she said, about 30 minutes later. Her cup of tea was untouched. She had been staring at the amber-colored liquid for most of the half hour.

"What is it? Do you want to go home?"

"If I promise I won't die, will you promise not to die, too?" she whispered.

I stared at her blankly for a moment.

God that was a promise no one could ever make.

But before I could open my mouth to reply, my phone started ringing. I threw her an apologetic glance and answered my mobile. It was an unknown caller.

"Edward Cullen?"

"Yes, who's this?" I said, impatient.

"I'm Bella's mom."

* * *

*****a/n**

Thanks to all who left reviews.


	35. 13th day

**Stephenie Meyer** was quoted as saying she might write a sequel for the wolves of Twilight.

**Chapter35/13****th**** day**

I told Bella I would be out for a couple of hours to check up on my car. It's been a week in repairs, I said to her, averting my eyes. I hated lying to her.

We were back at home, in my room.

Thank god my parents were here. She would not be alone.

I leaned down and kissed her. I could feel her tensing up.

"I'll be back soon," I murmured, coaxing her cold lips to soften. She clutched my arm, unconsciously digging her nails into my skin.

Her mother was right. It was best we meet alone tonight, keeping her presence from Bella, for now.

"Why couldn't I go with you?" she whispered across my mouth.

I straightened up and looked into her eyes. I caressed her cheek soothingly. Making a decision, I led her out of the room and down the stairs to my parents' suite on the ground floor.

She tugged at my hand, hanging back when she realized where I was taking her.

I kissed her lips again. "Relax, it will be alright."

I didn't tell Carlisle and Esme where I was off to, or who I was meeting with. It was best to keep this from my family, too.

"Bella! Dear, come help me bake cookies," my mother said cheerfully.

Yes, cookies. If there was anything that would distract her, take Bella's mind off my absence, it was baking and pastries.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

I had been expecting Renee's arrival for days. But hearing her voice over the phone, so much like Bella's, still shocked me speechless.

Thirteen days. We have been inside our little bubble, my girl and I, for 13 days and fuck me if I should let this end now.

I could not help but resent Renee. She was a reminder of what I could lose, perhaps never have. Which would remind me of the guilt. I hated doubting this, doubting _her_. I was sick of it.

I slowed my car when I reached Michigan Avenue.

I didn't need reminders. I have lived with the guilt for 13 days.

I flipped my mobile open and redialed Renee's number, informing her that I would meet her in the agreed place in 15 minutes.

This woman was asking too much of me, I grumbled, parking the car. She knew it but I doubt if she care.

"Mrs. Swan, is it?"

I recognized her as soon as I saw her. She was a stunning woman, but while Bella has the shape of her eyes, nose and chin, she didn't inherit her brown hair and brown eyes from her mother.

She was blonde, grey-eyed and too young. She looked like she was still in her 20s. She must be 40 years old at least.

"Call me Renee, Edward," she said, indicating the empty chair across from her. She did not extend her hand in greeting.

I sat down and we eyed each other warily.

"I thought you're older," she said, eyebrows raised.

I shrugged and smiled.

"And you don't look even remotely close to a lamia."

Bella, in one of her sleep-talking moments, has once referred to her mother as the Greek Lamia, a child-eating demon queen. She devoured her own children.

"Not quite," she said, smiling a little.

A waiter approached the table. She has yet to order and I wasn't interested in food. We both ordered drinks. I got beer. I have a feeling I would need it.

Not surprisingly, she asked me about my family by way of "breaking" the ice. She already knew my dad was a doctor. She didn't inquire about Esme, which was suspicious in itself. I bet she already was aware that my mother was a psychiatrist.

After about five strained minutes of small talk, I decided to take this where we both want it to go.

I cleared my throat and for the first time, I noticed a nervous gesture. Her hands were on the table, her fingers in a tight grip.

"Mrs. Swan -"

"Renee," she interrupted.

"Bella is staying not just with me, but with my family."

"I know that."

I stopped, waiting for her to take over the conversation.

"Is she happy?" she asked quietly.

"I would like to believe so."

"Her aunt said she was in a hospital."

I told her about the car accident, downplaying it a bit.

Some primal instinct prevented me from disclosing Bella's reaction to the accident.

I shouldn't have bothered. She was her daughter. She fucking knew.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?" I hedged.

"Do you really expect me to think that my daughter just calmly walked out of a car accident?"

I provoked that. I should have anticipated that one.

"She's been seeing a psychologist."

She asked me for more details and I told her everything she wanted to know, including what happened in today's session with Dr. Weisberger.

Before me, Renee sat quietly, still as death. And then finally, she said, "Do we understand each other, Edward?"

I nodded and I tried to arrange my facial expression into something banal.

She smoothed her hands along the table linen in a casual manner.

What did she want from me? Her eyes seemed shifty but I was admittedly, very biased and prone to think the worst of Bella's mom. She clearly wanted something from me, something I probably woundn't want to yield, or give up.

"I'm not going away, Renee," I said softly.

"I've rented a place," she said by way of a reply. "I think Bella will like it."

_Fuck._

I wanted to stand up and intimidate her but I forced myself to remain seated. I wasn't going to run away and hide Bella from this woman either.

Arguing was out of the fucking question. Bella was 18.

"When do you plan on asking her?"

She stared at me for several moments, acknowledging that I didn't, after all, took the bait. Then she sighed, relaxing a bit.

"Do you think she'd even want to talk to me?"

"Not to comment on your parenting skills, but when was the last time you saw your daughter?"

For a moment, she didn't move.

I saw it then, a crack in her veneer of casualness. I saw in her expression a rush of longing. She just stared at me, self-condemnation in her eyes.

"Too long," she said softly.

Renee seemed very cautious, even hopeful. I was surprised to even think that she was sort of nice, not someone who has had absolute control of her daughter's life.

"She needed you," I said. "Still do."

"I'm here now," she replied. She probably saw skepticism in my face because her voice grew impassioned, defensive. "You don't understand her life. _Our_ life."

And was her life easier without Bella? For so long?

"Look, Renee, I've known Bella for only two weeks but I've spent that time, every minute of it, with her," I paused. "I don't know if she'd want to see you."

She looked over at me, one eyebrow raised.

"From what little detail Marge has told me, you have some influence on my daughter. I'm sure you can convince her to see me, Edward."

I returned her stare, aware that was a significant question and quite possibly one that would signal the end of this meeting.

Did I want her to remove Bella from my house? Hell no. I couldn't even begin to process the thought of her moving away, even in a house across the street.

I raked my hand in my hair, inwardly cursing this woman. I wanted to tell her to go fuck it and go back to London, or wherever the hell she came from.

God, I need to talk to Esme.

I sighed. Carlisle, too.

"I'm sorry," I said finally. "I can't convince her to see you, but I will extend your … invitation."

She nodded, her eyes serious. "I see," she murmured. "I guess that's all I ask."

I breathed out a long breath, one I hadn't realized I was holding. I glanced at the clock behind me, not very discreet about it.

I better leave now while I have this strange upper hand. It was clear to me, at this moment at least, that Bella's mom needed me more than the other way around.

I'd been counting on her being shrewd and manipulative, which was not the case. _Yet. _I must remind myself that Bella was afraid of this woman for a reason.

As I watched her across the table, I saw her smile and it wasn't reassuring.

* * *

*****a/n**

Apologies for the long break. The story continues …

Thanks for all reviews, always.


	36. Mine

Still** Stephenie Meyer's**

**Chapter36/Mine**

- _With Bella till youre home honey, she's asleep on the sofa _-

Mom texted me about two hours after Renee and I parted ways. I stared at the screen of my iPhone.

I didn't feel like going home just yet so I went to Jasper's place. He was alone, a rare thing. Emmett and Rosalie were usually here, roosting.

I sighed, roughing my hair in my frustration.

A lot of issues and concerns were left unspoken during that meeting. When I got up to leave, Renee tried to make me to sit back down and talk some more but I had to go before she could force some sort of promise from me I knew I would regret later. I didn't want to stay long enough to hear her threats either if I keep denying her.

"She's her family, bro," said Jasper. I had been brooding, slumped on his armchair, and on my second beer. No, third.

"Fuck her."

"Hey - "

I shrugged off his protests.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"What's all this angsty, depressing mood?" He looked genuinely confused. "It's not like she's leaving the country. You'd still see her every day, right?"

That was it. I wasn't sure if I could be with her as I was now. Who knew with her mother? She only said she rented a place somewhere and ... fuck. Did she mention where, was it here? In Chicago?

I sighed, my frustration escalating.

"Go home, bro. You're no good moping here," said Jasper, setting down his beer.

"Right."

And I left.

* * *

Bella was still sleeping on the sitting room sofa. Alice was with her, watching DVD. She smiled at me and waved me off towards the direction of the kitchen.

"Parents want you," she said, nonchalant, turning back to the movie.

I nodded, bent down to kiss Bella on the cheek and asked Alice to join me in the kitchen. I would at least feel that someone was on my side. I knew what was waiting for me in there and I clenched my fists, resolved.

My parents were quietly enjoying their coffee.

Delaying the inevitable a little bit more, I helped myself with a mug and brought an extra to the table for Alice without asking her.

We all regarded each other silently for several seconds.

"I saw her mom today," I told them.

Carlisle raised a brow. My mother and Alice just stared at me.

"I don't really know what she's planning to do but she wants Bella to move in with her."

I did my best to apprise my family of what little detail I knew of Bella's life, about her aunt, about her recent confinement, and her relationship or specifically, her _non_-relationship with her mother.

I told them Bella had been treated with child on-set schizophrenia. She was nine years old when her mother had her confined for the first time. The second time, the most recent, was seven months ago. She was hospitalized for three months. I even disclosed the dates - February 20 to May 18.

Without any particular emotion, I informed my family of her established diagnosis, which was catatonic schizophrenia.

I was looking at my mother when I disclosed that Mr. Swan was a suicide. So was her paternal grandmother.

I heard the dullness in my voice and the morbid tone, uttering the word suicidal as if it was the Swan's family tradition, which it probably was.

"Gun shot wound to the head," I said in a matter-of-fact voice. Charlie Swan used his own gun to end it all. Grandmother Swan her husband's rifle.

I sounded like a fucking case record folder but the truth was I had only skimmed her medical files.

I knew nothing of her suicide attempts, how many times she tried or how, and when. I had no idea what were her other established diagnosis, if she had lived in a parallel universe, or if she was disturbed enough to display periods of dissociation.

My father was watching and listening with intent but he remained silent. It was starting to unnerve me.

Esme's expression was guarded, too. I could not even begin to imagine how this all sound to a shrink.

As for my sister, she was looking very, very worried. She opened her mouth but then no words came out. She was already aware that Bella was on suicide watch. Still, she looked as if she had been blasphemed and she turned away from me.

I stared at my frozen family, and they remained thus for several seconds, for far too long, until I could not bear the silence any longer.

The clock ticked in the corner, and all I could do was sit here and wait.

I sighed.

"I'd like to ask Bella to stay here."

"Of course, honey," from my mother.

"I hope she'd say yes, for your sake," said Alice.

I looked at my dad.

"I think your mother, Mrs. Swan, and I need to discuss this," he finally said.

Esme made a sympathetic move towards me but Carlisle stiffened and she remained quiet.

"Honey, I'm not saying no." He was addressing mom. "But I think you will agree with me that we need to clarify some things with Mrs. Swan before decisions are made."

Mom consented, knowing he was right. This has become about this family, too, not just Bella and me.

I wanted to argue, protest or complain but Carlisle was wearing his patriarchal look, with a good dash of I-am-a-doctor glare.

"I understand, Dad, really I do. If Bella says she wants to stay with me, she will," I said firmly. "Here or a place of our own."

I had my inheritance money from my great-grandmother and it was readily available. It was not much but it was enough if we sustain a modest lifestyle.

"Edward, you have school. Moving out won't be necessary," said Esme. She reached across the table and patted my hand reassuringly.

I nodded and I managed to give her a tight smile.

My parents exchanged a look, one of their silent marital conversations.

"Honey, it's best that you don't make any rash decisions. I'm a mother too, and I think I know what's Bella's mom is thinking right now."

I sucked in a long breath, and threw my pride out of the window.

"Will you help me, Mom?" I winced at my pleading tone. "Can you try to convince Renee to let Bella stay with us?"

Carlisle cleared his throat.

"Son, you have to ask Bella first."

"She'll say yes -"

"You aren't sure of that."

"I am," I said softly.

My father acknowledged that and didn't say anything anymore.

Esme got up, walked around the table, and pulled me up for a hug.

"It's late and you've been stressed enough. Go get your girl." She kissed my cheek and, holding out her hand to Carlisle, they left the kitchen together.

I turned to my sister. She had been silent all this time.

She tried to smile, tried to put a game face on it, but she just couldn't manage it.

"Will it matter so much?"

I knew what she was asking me. And yes, it would matter. Very much. Bella's presence in my life these past weeks has had an amazing impact on me. She has restored my spirits. No one else possesses the ability to do that.

She has turned my life upside down but it was something I would gladly endure, so long as she was here with me.

A wave of guilt, the ever present guilt, washed over me. I tried to tell myself again that I was doing my best for her, that I was making her happy. But it wasn't enough. I would not be enough for her, untreated, without medical attention. I knew this but it didn't mean I had to accept it.

Not now.

I got up, tried to make light of things by ruffling her spiky hair, thanked her for looking after Bella, and said goodnight.

* * *

"Edward," she murmured, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

I turned to her immediately, kissing and nibbling on her neck, breathing her in.

"You're so beautiful." I crush these words against her soft skin, my voice rough with exhaustion.

I barely had an hour's sleep. After I had carried her to our room, I spent hours watching her serene face, dreading for that same sweet face to turn bleak when I finally tell her about her mother.

I touched her chin and turned her face to me. She licked her lips and waited.

My hand found the small of her back and slid up. I raised her shirt-covered tits and buried my face in their softness, trying to rein in the sob I could feel rising in my chest. And then my mouth was on hers, my hands gliding over her thigh and between her legs, surprised to find her naked. I nudged her thighs open and rose up to get her sleep shirt off and over her head.

I returned to her sweet mouth and I spread her legs wide. She gasped and moaned when I brushed my fingers against her swollen flesh. I knew the tempo that she liked, and the speed that would make her arched her back like a bow and writhed under me.

I mouth a pebbled nipple, swirling my tongue around it again and again, addicted to the sounds she was making. I used the heel of my hand to rub her clit and when she gasped her encouragement, I slipped two fingers inside her.

Bella's hand on my hair convulsively tightened when I inserted another finger and started a rhythmic pace, stroking her hot spot repeatedly. I brought her to a mindless frenzy and then I stopped. She whimpered and I soothed her by kissing her deeply again, my tongue playing with hers.

"So soft," I breathed, dragging my tongue from the underside of her breast to her stomach, and dipping it on her navel. I gripped her hips, and licked a path from her belly to the delicate skin on the inside of one thigh and all the way to her very core.

"Edward!" she moaned. I used my nose to rub her sensitive flesh and she gasped, her hips jerking. I bent her knees and spread her legs wider. At her "Please, please" I fastened my lips on her sex, open-mouthed, and licked her little nub. I dragged my tongue up and down from her slit to the top hood and circled the tip around her opening until she was panting. It didn't take long, it never did with her. She pushed her back off the bed, her hand gripping my hair, and pulsed against my tongue.

I caressed her hips soothingly until she calmed down. I kissed her tummy and rose up.

She stared at me, heavy-lidded, her bottom lip puffy from her biting it. My own lips twisted and I gave her a crooked smile.

She lowered her eyes to my crotch and her breath gasped across her lips when I cupped my bulge, straining from being confined in my boxers. She watched me as I pulled my shirt off and dropped my boxers. Her gaze zeroed in on my stiff cock and I stroked it for her, watching her watch me.

Her eyes fixed on my hand pleasuring myself. She licked her lips and she sat up, tucking her legs under her. She reached out and took over, pushing my hand away, her own hand sliding down my shaft and back up. She leaned forward and we kissed deeply, her hand on my cock was stroking laguidly. She fisted the base and I groaned.

Bella dipped her head and took me inside her mouth, sucking the head and licking around the ridge exactly how I taught her. Wide tongue strokes, her lips taut, and the pressure of her closed mouth around me was fucking unbelievable.

She pushed me further on the bed and I obligingly laid down. She removed her mouth briefly and used her palm to grip and twist over my swollen head. I closed my eyes and forced myself not to grab her and slam her body on top of my erection.

I almost lost control when she licked and squeezed my balls, and my eyes rolled back in my head when she tugged down and licked me long. I grunted loudly when she rubbed a finger then tongued my perineum. Repeatedly.

"I'm gonna come," I muttered. She flattened her tongue and increased the pace of her sucking. "Baby?" I tried to hold it in, letting her know she didn't have to. She hummed and I lost it. My hand in her hair, I thrust once, twice, my hips jutting slowly. Her hand and mouth were moving up and down in coordination with my pelvis.

_Oh, fuck!_ I bent one knee and came hard inside her throat, yelling her name.

My mind broke through the orgasmic haze and I felt her mouth still on me, sucking the head, stroking and licking until I was clean. I grabbed her arm and dragged her on top of me. I relished the feel of her warm, soft body against me.

"Thank you," I murmured against her hair.

I shifted her until she was on her back and I was kneeling between her legs again. Her eyes widen as she felt me getting harder against her thigh.

I slide my hands under her and she gasped in surprise when I pushed inside her. I sucked in a breath as the heat of her engulfed my length. She wrapped her legs around my hips as I mounted her fully. I raised her lower body and I slid further, buried to the hilt.

I pumped hard and deep, and then shifted to shorter and shallow strokes to hit and glide against her clit, exactly like she wanted. When I felt her pulsing around me, her back arching, I increased my rhythm until she had finished. I didn't stop my piston-like strokes, gritting my teeth as her leg lock intensified the stimulation and depth of friction.

She squirmed beneath me and her whimpers and moaning penetrated my lust-befogged mind, and I couldn't control my roughness, drilling in and out of her too hard, too forceful.

"Fuck!" I gasped, stopping, my heart pounding painfully. "Am I hurting you?" I pulled out and the sensation of her moist, hot flesh almost killed me.

"Don't stop!" she wailed, and I plunged forward. I leaned lower, an elbow braced on the bed and angled my thrusts sideways, hitting her most sensitive spot dead-on. She was biting her bottom lip hard and had her eyes shut. I could feel the sheets under her getting soaked.

"Look at me," I growled. She opened her eyes and I swiveled my hips, pounding her deeper onto the mattress.

She panted and begged, her legs shaking. Her head fell back, stretching her body like a notched arrow, and she screamed my name. I slammed my hips into her, adjusting her body to accept me deeper, pushing her limit. Over and over. She bit my shoulder and I let myself go, finally. I shuddered and jerked violently on top of her.

* * *

"Mine," I whispered in her ear, moments later.

Our breathing has yet to return to normal. I could feel her flushed body still vibrating with the force of her orgasms.

_Mine._


	37. Breakable

Twilight's by **Stephenie Meyer. **All hers.

**Chapter 37/Breakable**

"Mom's planning to see her today," my sister whispered to me. We both looked at Esme and Bella preparing waffles for breakfast. "Have you told her?"

"Not yet," I muttered.

"Well? Now's the time."

I sighed, and pushed my chair away from the table, noisily. Bella looked up at me and I froze, gulping. Alice squeezed my hand in encouragement.

I cleared my throat.

"Mom, Alice will help you." I gave my sister a weak grin. "I need to talk to Bella."

My palms sweating, I turned to the patio door without checking if she was following me. I led her farther into the gardens, to the gazebo.

We haven't been back in the gazebo since the incredible sex we had here before. I smiled a little, remembering. My family was probably wondering why Bella always blushed deep pink whenever someone mentioned the gazebo. Or the library.

I opened the screen door for her. She sat in one of the wicker armchairs, studiously ignoring the day bed.

She was quiet and I could tell she was getting anxious. She wasn't looking at me.

I sat down next to her and took one of her hands in my own. I let out a sigh of resignation.

"Your mother's here, Bella."

She stiffened her body, her face freezing.

"It's alright, I saw her yesterday," I told her quickly.

I waited for her to say something, but she didn't speak.

"Bella," I said, nervous, not sure if I was doing the right thing. "Do you want to stay with your mom?"

Mute.

She tugged at her hand and I let her go.

She was breathing shallowly.

Finally, she looked over at me. It was more a glare than a gaze.

She ignored my question. She looked away, stood up, and she left me there in the gazebo.

That was the first time she had ever left my presence in a temper.

* * *

"Bella, open the door," I said. I followed her to our room after she had walked out on me.

Nothing, not even a sound behind the door.

"Bella, please …"

Five minutes passed. I slumped down on the floor in the hallway, waiting. I stared idly at the wall, examining the original paintings displayed there. And as I sat there, dimly aware of my family having breakfast downstairs, I came to a decision.

"Talk to me," I whispered.

There was a noise and I heard a thump on the other side of the door.

"Are you sending me away?" A muffled sob.

"No, baby." I tried to make my voice sound as convincing as I could.

"Do you promise?"

"Yes."

I heard a click as she unlocked the door. I stood up and pushed it opened slowly.

Bella was sitting on the bed, head down, gripping her fingers.

I sat down beside her, but avoiding touching her. Somehow I knew she would not be receptive to any physical contact right now.

Slowly, gauging her reaction with every word I told her, I recounted the meeting with her mother. She smiled a little when I mentioned my lamia quip and I was encouraged by that tiny smile.

"She asked you to ask _me_ if I want to see her?" She frowned at that, as if doubting that Renee would ever even pause to ask her for an opinion.

"She did, Bella." I reached out and gently linked my fingers with hers, feeling her relaxing. "It's up to you. No pressure."

"Why?" She was genuinely baffled.

I lifted her hand and kissed it. "You're a grown-up. She no longer has any control over your life. You do know that, right?"

"But I'm …"

"You're what?"

"I'm unwell," she whispered.

I groaned inwardly, my insides suddenly tightening. How the hell would I answer that? I reply with a lie, tell her no, she was fine? Or, yes Bella, I agree with you you're clinically messed up but what do we do about it?

"Do you remember what you told me? When I brought you here?" I leaned down and kissed her cheek.

She shrugged, refusing to look at me.

"You promised that you would get well."

She turned to me and blinked. She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Then she nodded. "I told you I would get well for you," she said softly.

I waited two seconds then said, "Bella, you will get better for yourself, first."

Her cheeks blushed and I wondered why she looked embarrassed of a sudden. She nodded her head and seemed to sag unto herself.

"What's wrong, baby?" I wrapped an arm around her.

"I … I'd do it for y-you," she whispered so low I almost didn't hear it.

I felt it again, a longing really, for something I couldn't quite yet define. God knows I wanted her, needed her in my life and I was selfish enough to keep her, no matter what.

After a while she lay down on the bed and dragged me with her. She rested her head against my shoulder and I brought an arm around her, tucking her in closer.

"How … what?" She hesitated. "How did she look to you?"

"Your mom? Fine, I guess." I shrugged.

"Was she friendly?"

"Surprisingly, yes she was."

She lifted her head and looked at me. "She was really okay?"

I grinned at her, glad her mood has improved. "I'm actually looking forward to what you would look like in your 40s."

She laughed, poking my stomach. I dodged her tickling fingers and kissed the top of her head. I pulled her back to my side.

And then she fell silent, and I wondered if the implication of what I just told her had hit her.

"She's always beautiful," she whispered now, not ready to bring up the meaning of my comment yet.

"She is," I agreed.

"When she visits me … every time I see her she seemed prettier and prettier."

"Like a blood-sucking vampire who never gets old," I said, mock-biting the soft pad of her forefinger.

She giggled, and sucked on her abused finger. I snatched it from her mouth and licked it. She sighed and smiled.

"What do you think I should do?" She tapped her index finger against my cheek and brought my face near hers. She kissed my mouth, lightly running the tip of her tongue along the inside of my bottom lip. "What do you want me to do, Edward?"

Was it so much to wish that her mother would magically decide I was the answer to her daughter's dilemma all along, and then she would drop off the face of the earth, never to be seen or heard from again?

The last thing I wanted was to find myself as controlling as Renee seemed to have been all throughout Bella's life. I told her the same thing I told her mother.

"I can't tell you what to do, or how to deal with your mom," I said quietly.

She looked as if she wanted to argue with me then thought better of it.

"But," I continued when she didn't interrupt. "I'll be here, with you, always." And I had to ask, "Are we together, Bella?"

"Always …" She sighed the one word, and I guaranteed her promise with a kiss. She gripped my hair, pulling hard, and I rolled over on top of her, deepening the contact.

"Edward," she gasped. She broke off the kiss and cupped my face in her hands, her thumb stroking my jaw line. I instinctively pressed harder on her, wondering if I had locked the door.

She bit her lower lip and looked down, hiding her eyes from me.

"What is it?"

Her eyes slid slightly to the side and she peeked at me. I was starting to get nervous.

"Bella …"

"I-I think I'd like to see her," she said in a rush.

I nodded grimly and was glad she couldn't see my expression. I sat up, bringing her with me. She immediately slipped her arms around my waist and I hugged her back.

"It's going to be alright," I assured her.

It better be, I thought, resolved. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was going to regret this meeting with her mother.

I raked my hand in my hair and wound one arm around her tightly.

I debated telling her about Esme's own plans with Renee today. I didn't even know when and where, and suddenly I had to know. This talk between the mothers would be very crucial to our setup.

"Stay here, Bella." I kissed the top of her head. "I'll be back with brunch."

* * *

My mother was still in the kitchen and Carlisle, thank god, has gone off to work.

"How's Bella?" she asked me as soon as I sat down. She placed a tray on the table. She guessed correctly that I would prefer breakfast in bed with my girl today.

"Cautiously eager. Confused. Torn. Missing her mom." I practically growled the last three words.

"Honey, she's all she's got."

"I'm here," I ground out.

"Not the same." She ruffled my already disheveled hair. "You could be her whole life, but a mother has her own special place in every child's heart. Don't you agree?"

I sighed and managed a very wobbly smile.

"Mom, you know I love you."

"Would you say you love Bella more?"

"Not the same," I said, defeated.

"It's only natural for Bella to miss her mom and more so, in this case, since she's hardly ever present in her life," she said.

She has finished placing plates of thick blueberry waffles, bacon and cheese omelets, and bread sticks on the tray. I got up and poured hot cocoa in mugs and added marshmallows for Bella.

"What are you going to tell her, Mom?"

I had asked her last night to act as my representative, to lobby for me, to convince Bella's mom to let her remain in this house.

"I wish I have all the answers for you, Edward," she said gently.

"Please don't make me beg again, Mom." It wasn't what I had told Bella earlier, but fuck, what I wanted was her and only her, and that means _living together in this house_. And what was I supposed to say to her? When she asked me what I think she should do? Be a fucking caveman about all this?

Mom hesitated. I could see mixed emotions warring in her eyes.

She did want to help me, to help us – Bella and I – but she was my mother and I could see that she was worried about how attached I had become to the girl now lying in my bed, in so short a time.

Mothers operate in some mysterious maternal code of conduct and as a psychiatrist, her gainful perspective would not allow her to compromise.

"Don't over-think this, honey." She kissed my forehead and pushed the tray towards me. "And yes, I will help you. But do me this one favor."

I let out a relieved sigh and fixed a bright grin on my face.

"Convince her to see her mom," she said.

And I choked off a laugh.

"Done."

* * *

Two hours later I received a call from Renee.

"You're a sneaky one, aren't you?" She said the words in a light tone. She was obviously striving to sound teasing, but I heard the steel in her voice.

And I knew. "You said no to my mother."

"What I told your mother is that I will think about it."

She was saying a lot of things here and I wished I wasn't being too paranoid about all of this. I felt numbed and heavy, and I briefly fantasized about wrapping the phone cords around her neck.

"What's there to consider, Renee? Bella loved it here, with _us_." I tried to make my voice sound calm but it was starting to become a real effort to be friendly.

She was quiet for too long that I thought the line was cut off. Then she said, "I want to see her tonight."

"I'll ask her."

"Edward," she started in a sharp tone. "_Tonight_. Bring my daughter to my apartment."

When I didn't reply immediately, she added a hasty, "Please."

Oh, she was a piece of work! Bella wouldn't be able to handle her mother, at all. I knew that now.

"We'll be there." It was best to get this meeting out of the way, now than later. The sooner Bella realize what she wanted, and where she wants to be, the better for us. I was confident enough to know that she would prefer to stay with me.

And having gotten her way, Renee poured on the charm again. She dictated the address and then acted as if she wasn't almost snarling at me a while ago.

"I'll see you soon, Edward!" She was practically gushing and I find it extremely irritating.

* * *

Bella was quiet during the drive to her mother's place. I reached out and clasped her cold hand, bringing it to my lap. She glanced at me for a brief moment, gave me a tight smile, and stared out of the window the rest of the way.

Renee's apartment was on the 10th floor of a new a building. I had been here before so I was familiar with the place. I opted for a valet service instead of parking across the street.

The doorman was expecting us and led us directly to the elevators.

Bella grabbed my hand when the elevator doors closed and she held it all the way up to Renee's. I leaned down and kissed her cheek before I rang the bell.

"Bella!"

Renee was already crying and she moved to embrace her daughter. Bella was stunned and she held her arms stiffly to her sides while her mother was sobbing against her shoulder.

She let go of Bella finally and sniffing, reached up to kiss my cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.

I tried, I really did. But I wasn't buying it. I would admit that she did have affection for her one and only child but I couldn't help my sarcastic thoughts.

She led us into her apartment. It was mid-sized with two bedrooms and a study, she said. From the doorway, one could see everything – the living room, dining room and the kitchen. It was the kitchen's view that held Bella's attention.

"It's breathtaking, isn't?" Renee noticed her fascination.

The kitchen was perhaps the biggest area in the condo, it was well-lighted, very modern, and to someone who liked cooking, it would be perfect. I smirked at the thought. So it begins …

Bella has yet to speak, but I could see that she wasn't resisting the lure that was her mother.

"Do you still love cooking, Bella?"

She nodded. She walked slowly around the kitchen, touching steel, white panels and maple stained wood.

I stayed in the living room, watching mother and daughter together. My heart was pounding. What the fuck was going on now?

"Would you like to see the bedrooms?"

That stopped Bella's wandering. She paused and looked at me. She walked over to where I stood and wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Alright," she told her mom.

She smiled up at me and took my hand while Renee toured us around the apartment. She prattled on excitedly about the smaller room she was probably envisioning as Bella's. This one has the best view of all the rooms.

Finally, we sat down to dinner.

"I don't cook so these are all take out," she said apologetically.

"Your choices looked delicious," I said, civil and courteous like Esme taught me to be. After a few bites of the chicken parmesan, Renee and I tried to plug the hole of silence with small talk.

"I do public relations for a multinational company," she said when I asked her about her work.

"Based in Europe?" I asked.

"New York," she said, and before I could mull the idea of her relocating to New York soon, she dashed my hopes. "But we have an office here in Chicago."

_Fucking great._

Then she turned to her daughter, who was still silent. "Do you like this place, Bella?"

Bella froze and under the table, I placed my hand on her thigh, an attempt to soothe her.

"I do," she said quietly.

I stared at Renee who refused to meet my eyes.

Her mother did her own starting at Bella for several moments, then her lips spread into a slow, satisfied smile.

"I'm so happy you're here, Bella."

After the short dinner, Renee managed an "alone" time with her daughter in one of the rooms. She practically dragged her in there and firmly shut the door.

I stood facing the huge French windows in the living area. I had made my proverbial bed and I was lying on it now. And I wasn't pleased with how this entire encounter was progressing.

For what seemed like a half hour, or more, they finally emerged from the bedroom. I felt an invisible kick in my stomach when I saw Bella smiling.

It was time to go.

Renee embraced her awkwardly again and when she turned to me, her smile of goodbye was a little smug.

* * *

The next day, Bella made a decision.

"One month," she said, gnawing at her bottom lip anxiously, looking at me from across the room.

I was staring at her in surprise, in dismay.

"She said ... she said she wanted to get to know me," she stammered when I remained silent. "She … she _pleaded_ with me, Edward. She said to give her just one month."

I sat on my sofa, motionless, staring at her in blank disbelief. She was pacing the room, her hands pulling on her fingers in her agitation and in her excitement.

"_She wants to be with me!" _she exclaimed, throwing herself onto my lap.

I slowly pulled her face out of its position on my neck and tried to smile at her.

"Is this what you really want?" I asked, in what I hoped was a neutral tone.

"Just one month, Edward," she whispered.

"One month."

"Yes, one month," she insisted.

I looked at the woman who had so unexpectedly fallen into my life. Her pretty chestnut hair was shiny and the sunlight was picking up red tinges in the tangles. And her eyes … her eyes sparkled with optimism like a little orphan whose long lost mother has come for her at last.

God, I hoped not.


	38. Breaking

Sometime in June (this year) there was an alleged interview of **Stephenie Meyer **posted on the net, and the question was about the publication of Midnight Sun. Sadly, she said she's not motivated enough to write the second part of Midnight Sun. (Wasn't there a petition before? Signed by 1 million of Edward Cullen fans?)

**Chapter38/Breaking (or Broken Part1)**

It was a fucking busy tone. Again. One continuous, eternal, busy tone.

I stomped out of the house, my limbs heavy with frustration, and in a thoroughly juvenile action I threw my fucking useless iPhone away. Then I stopped and forced my anger down and under control.

I eyed my newly-delivered Volvo, calculating the speed I had to be in to get to her condo real fast. I was about to jump in my car when my phone started ringing, and I looked for the goddamned thing. I was momentarily distracted with the thought that this fucking unit was indeed, built packed that throwing it with vigor wouldn't break it.

"Hello?" I snapped at the receiver without looking who the caller was.

"Mr. Cullen? This is Beth from Dr. Weisberger's office. I'm to remind you of yours and Ms. Swan's appointment for this weekend? It's for 11am."

"Thank you." Now I have an excuse to go to her.

I took Bella to Renee's place three days ago. I stayed for as long as I could until her mother's not so subtle hints forced me to leave. I left but only after reminding Bella – for the 100th time – to make sure her cellphone was attached to her self at all times.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I promised her. Our goodbye kiss was short and hurried and it left me unsatisfied.

I haven't talked to her since. I tried to establish regular communication without acting like a stalker (if I was I'd be standing under her window every night). I dropped her text messages daily and would call at least twice a day. I knew Bella wasn't the typical girl whose mobile was linked to her hand and mouth, but fuck she should at least reply to one fucking text and answer my fucking calls!

I clenched my teeth, still standing at the entrance of the garage. In three strides I was in the car and out of the driveway in a heart beat. My phone rings again. This time it was my mother.

"Edward, I hear your tires screeching from where I'm standing in the bedroom. Slow down," she said calmly. I eased my foot on the gas.

"Sorry, I'll be careful."

"We'll see you and Bella at dinner?"

"I'm going to her now, Mom."

It wasn't a yes or a no and it was telling Esme that I still was not able to talk to Bella after she had left the house.

"Drive safely." She sighed and cut the line.

I echoed her sigh and restrained my natural instinct to drive until the speedometer was pointing to near 100 miles per hour.

I tried calling Bella again so she would know I was arriving in 45 minutes. Nothing. What if Renee disconnected her line and she didn't even know about it? Or, maybe they'd fucking left the state, or the country! The only way her mother could manage that was by drugging Bella and transporting her like a mental patient. Hell it sounded stupid, even to me, but I was getting paranoid.

* * *

I inhaled deeply, punching her floor number. The fucking elevators couldn't move fast enough.

She hurled herself at me as soon as the door was opened and I breathed a sigh of relief. My hands roamed her upper body to check for damage. Yeah, I know. I'm fucking paranoid.

"I called you," I whispered against her neck. She tightened her arms around my own neck and let out a ragged breath.

"I'm sorry." She peppered kisses all over my face. We were still in the hallway.

"Sweetie, bring Edward inside," Renee reminded her.

Bella dragged me in and was walking straight to her bedroom when her mother stopped her.

"Bella, I'd like to talk to Edward, please? I hope you don't mind?"

She gripped my hand harder and we sat down on the sofa, facing her mother. In the light of day, the living room seemed smaller, and since the blinds were blanketing the big windows, it wasn't as bright as it should be.

"Renee." I forced my tone to be friendly.

"How are you, Edward?"

We were both tentative and circled around boring small talk. I used the time to observe Bella.

She looked the same but somehow different. Her eyes seemed tired, droopy. Her skin was still pale but underneath her eyes, there was a faint bluish tinge, as if she had not been sleeping properly.

"I'm taking Bella to dinner tonight, with my family," I told Renee and I couldn't help it, my stance was a little defensive, daring her to say no.

"Oh, of course, she'd love that. Wouldn't you, sweetie?"

Bella bit her lower lip and slowly nodded. I placed my arm around her shoulders. She leaned closer to me and mumbled about the party. I understood and squeezed her shoulders in assurance.

"And, Renee, my mother and sister are hosting a party this Saturday. Bella is invited." I paused and left unspoken words in the air. I wasn't trying to snob her, but I asked my mother to extend her own invitation to Renee since it was her party after all.

"Lovely," she said, pasting a bright smile on her face. I also informed Renee of Bella's and my appointment with the psycho-therapist soon, it was in fact one of my reasons for being here.

"Well now, I'm sure you two want to be alone." She held out her hand to me. "It was nice seeing you again, Edward." She turned her cheek and I obligingly gave her a barely-there peck.

Bella stood up and once again, dragged me to the direction of her bedroom.

I sat on her small bed and watched her stand still near the door, her ear flat against the wood, listening.

"What are you doing, Bella?"

"Oh. Nothing." She perched herself on my lap and gave me a shy, nervous smile. "I missed you."

I cupped her face and brought her lips to mine, and I felt whole again. I gathered her body closer and I moved to the center of the bed, my back comfortably resting against her headboard. I nuzzled her cheek, breathing her sweet scent.

"I text you everyday, call you everyday." I schooled my tone to something less accusatory. But the truth was that I was hurt that she had ignored me for three days.

She looked away and was silent, and has started to chew her lower lip again.

"Where's your phone, Bella?"

Now she was biting her nails. "I lost it."

And a dark suspicion, which earlier was just anxious speculation, was forming. "It was disconnected."

"No!" she burst out. She sat up and was facing me fully. "No, Edward. I lost my phone. It was my fault."

"When did you last see it?"

She frowned. "I'm not sure. In the kitchen?"

"When?"

"The next morning I was here."

I sighed. I didn't tell her that when I was calling her line, all I get was continuous busy tone, the kind one get when a line was temporarily disabled.

And then she tried to smile and leaned closer to me, her lips brushing against mine. "I didn't get your texts or calls. And I was worried."

"Bella, you should've known I'd be calling you," I chided her gently. "Didn't you wonder why you haven't heard from me in three damn days?"

"I thought you were busy."

I dropped the subject. It wasn't important anymore. I decided to get her a new phone and a new line.

I glanced at my watch. We had four more hours until we should be at the restaurant.

"Would you like to leave now, Bella?" I wanted to take her somewhere where there would be more privacy.

She eagerly nodded yes. In 20 minutes we were out of the building.

* * *

We drove aimlessly around until our direction hit the borders of Oak Street Beach. She squealed excitedly when she saw the ocean line.

We parked in one of the quaint little cafes along Lake Shore Drive. We rented blankets and took our milk chocolate shakes outside in the little park.

Bella told me what she had been doing for the last three days.

"She took me with her everywhere. She shopped, bought me clothes and then every night we would go out."

"What did you talk about?" I asked and fucked me if I wasn't feeling jealous. Of her own fucking mother!

"You," she said, perplexed.

Not fucking surprised.

"What did you tell her about me?"

She blushed, looking away.

"Bella?" I raised a brow at her, giving her a slanted smile.

"She asked me if you were my boyfriend."

"And?"

"I said yes." Then, hurriedly, "she asked me if we were sleeping together and I said yes. She … she told me I could get pregnant and that I shouldn't because of my genes and I -"

That got my attention and I couldn't believe her mother's insensitivity. "Your what?"

"Well, she's right. My baby's going to be sick, too," she said in a broken voice.

I took her milkshake and laid us down on the blanket. Her head was on my chest and I kissed her head. I tried to control my agitated breathing.

"Listen to me, Bella," I said and I was thankful my voice was relatively calm. "We were careful and I won't get you with child." She expelled a breath and I continued, "And, sweetheart? Any child of yours will be healthy and as beautiful as you are, believe me. Not _sick _as your mother so asininely puts it."

"I was scared," she whispered. "I don't want my baby to be like me."

Words, especially dejected words coming from Bella's lips, could cause physical pain.

* * *

My parents chose one of the newest Mediterranean restaurants in town. We haven't dined here yet as a family. Everyone was already at the table when we arrived. My brother and sister joined us for dinner.

I looked at my brother with a silent inquiry. I called Emmett earlier and requested that he purchased Bella a phone and to enroll a new line for her. He gave me a thumbs up as soon as we were near the table and I smiled.

My mother and Alice both got up to give Bella a hug. My father and Emmett greeted her warmly as well. I tolerated my brother's slightly enthusiastic peck on her cheek.

"You look very nice, dear," Mom told Bella.

It was a pleasant table. My family was at its best when they wanted to convey welcome to a precious guest. Even my father, who I often felt was against Bella moving in with us for good, was very charming and genuinely friendly to her.

It didn't take long for my mother and Alice to bring the conversation around to the coming party, which was in four days.

Alice was sitting beside Bella and I shamelessly eavesdropped on their conversation. She seemed to be consulting my sister about clothing.

"You could wear the dark blue short dress, you know, the one with the crisscrossed back straps?"

She kind of looked unhappy with her suggestion and I could only assume that the dress was too revealing for my demure Bella.

Alice noticed. "Or, we could go out tomorrow and find something else."

"I really don't want to buy a new dress, Alice," she said. "I have more than enough."

"Oh! I know, come around the house early on Saturday and I'd lend you one of mine. It should be great, Bella. Say yes!"

I thought this was a brilliant idea. It would also give us extra private time before the party. In my room.

"I'll pick you up after lunch, Bella," I quickly butt in, forgetting to mask my nosiness.

* * *

We were lingering in the lobby, neither of us wanted to separate yet. Bella was sitting very close to me almost in my lap on a loveseat, our heads pressed close together, whispering.

"Wish you were coming home with me."

"Just 26 more days," she breathed the words against my neck and I shivered.

I gazed around the almost empty lobby, looking for a damned broom closet or something. My eyes intercepted the wily grin of the night doorman.

I sighed and decided to put a temporary end to my masochistic tendencies and escorted Bella to her door.

Yeah.

Twenty-six fucking days.

* * *

On the day before the party, my stress level has about reached its limit. It was, technically, Bella's sixth day living with her mom.

Several times during the last two days I found myself cutting across Washington Park Square on my way to Number Eight-oh-Thirty, Bella's building. But desperate as I was, I didn't give in to it, although my protective instincts were screaming at me and giving me "the finger" every day.

I didn't get the chance to see her again after our dinner with the family. I would call but she could only talk very briefly. I text her but she rarely replies. Apparently, Renee brings her along every where she goes.

Today was different. This time, it was late morning and I was standing outside of her building. I was across the street, opting to park my own car instead of valet.

I was about to walk towards the entrance when the huge glass doors opened and there was Bella and her mother.

My feet didn't move but my focus zeroed in on her.

Renee clutched Bella's arm - and I grind my teeth because it was a little too rough from where I was standing - and they walked hurriedly down the pavement. A black sedan was waiting for them and they quickly got inside the car before I could call their attention.

In that brief look I had of her, I scanned her features and I saw enough. She was sickly pale and even at this distance, I could see the defined bruise-like appearance of the skin under her eyes.

I stared blankly forward and a plan began to form in my head.

* * *

*****a/n**

**Broken Part 2** up next.


	39. Broken Part2

**Stephenie Meyer's **etc.

**Chapter39/Broken Part2**

I could hear Alice's high-pitch voice from the side terrace. The living room's sliding doors leading to the patio was opened wide. There were people in there, hired gardeners preparing the area for tomorrow night's party.

I was about to seek her out and discuss my plan with her when my mother intercepted me at the entrance hallway.

"Edward, please join me and your father in the study."

Another family meeting? Didn't we have one last week?

"Sure, Mom." I followed her to my father's office. He was already there, sitting behind his desk. It was his formal, official, Father-of-the-House position.

"Is Emmett and Alice included here?"

"Not today," my father said. "Sit down, Edward."

I glanced over at my mother and she gave me a reassuring smile.

"Upon your request, your mother met Mrs. Swan a week ago. And I know you think I don't support you enough in this but your mother and I do care for Bella, and we want what's best for her. More importantly, for us, we want what's best for _you_."

I opened my mouth, about to argue some points there, but Carlisle held up his hand for me to wait.

"Son, we are aware that you're an adult. And we _know_ you. We raised you. We take the credit on how you turned out to be, which is excellent, by the way."

The corner of my mouth turned up at that. I should be self-conscious, and I was sure the tips of my ears were turning red in surprised embarrassment, albeit secretly pleased, at my father's praise of me, by praising _his_ parenting skills.

"But you're not done growing up," he continued. He leaned forward, folding his elbows on his desk. This was his doctor mode now. "Bella needs medical attention, Edward. We're talking regular therapy, clockwork medication, more therapy and the full time support and backing of her family."

I took it as my cue to interrupt him at this point in the proceedings.

"Dad, we've established the need for her treatment. But I also want to emphasize that it's preventive treatment. She hasn't been displaying any -" and I was about to say symptoms of any psychotic behavior but I backtracked remembering at the last moment her brief catatonic episode at the airport, "_severe_ psychosis," I finished instead.

"No hallucinations, or altered speech, or any physical symptoms like tremors or spasms," I added. Was it fucking obvious that I had been spending time on Carlisle's medical books and on the Internet searching for all topics related to schizophrenia?

"Edward …" My mother, who had been standing near the window, walked up to the table and sat opposite me. She took my hand in both of hers. "Honey, I've been watching … _observing_ Bella for a week. Not as a patient, you understand, but as your friend and a guest in our home."

She took a deep breath and I could see she was debating on whether to be Mom or Dr. Esme Cullen. She decided to be both. "You love Bella, Edward, and because of your need to see her as normal, you are missing behavioral patterns that as a psychiatrist, I have observed in her."

I detached my hand from hers and stood. I looked out of the window. The study was facing the east side of the house to take better advantage of the sunlight. It was the second brightest part of the house after the library on the second floor.

At the moment there was no sun, it was hiding behind the clouds. We might see a drizzle tomorrow night, I thought, distracted. And that was probably why I now see men laying out the skeletons of what looked like a huge tent.

My father cleared his throat. I turned to them, finally. I didn't think I could say anything more to my mom. I wanted to insist Bella was fine, but I couldn't summon the words to negate her expert observation.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Be open-minded, understand what's to happen and give it your support," said Carlisle. "There isn't really anything you can do but be there for her."

"What do you mean?"

"You must understand, honey, that you cannot cure schizophrenia," warned my mother. "Symptoms may get worse, or improve, there is never a certainty. Success for each individual is different and the symptoms will go away for a period of time but know that the underlying disorder remains."

"And Edward," from my father, "this was not your fault."

And I snorted at him. "I never said it was. How could this be my fault?" I lied. I knew perfectly well that this was my fault. I was fucking blind to her symptoms.

"I see guilt in your eyes, son. And I tell you, you will be _unable_ to live with a schizophrenic if you will take everything she does personally. It's not her it's her medication and the disorder, Edward. You _cannot_ suspend your own life because you feel guilt."

"I'm not putting my life on hold, Dad."

"Well, where are you now?"

"It's just been three weeks!"

"Exactly, we -"

"I don't fucking know what to do!" I burst out rudely.

"Language, Edward," he said, his tone calmly authoritative.

With a loud sigh and grumble, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at my father. I breathed through my nose and tried to still my nerves.

He gave me a curt nod. "Your mother and I are planning to talk to Mrs. Swan."

"What -"

"Let me finish," he said. "We are going to recommend specialists here and there are places where she would have the best treatment."

"What? Are you suggesting confinement?"

"No, just therapy. Regular therapy. Dr. Weisberger is already on her case and she could help. Mrs. Swan has to come on board with this as Bella has no background here. Her new doctors would need to establish an updated diagnosis."

I paced around the room. "I keep repeating this, Dad, but I'm here for her." I raked my hand in my hair. I couldn't let this one go. "I prefer for her to live here, with us, and I've stated that again and again …"

My parents exchanged one of those marital looks and I stopped my prowling.

"What?" I growled, my agitation getting the better of me again. I didn't think I was going to like what was coming next.

And Carlisle sighed. "I have to return to London in a few weeks, but your mother will be here. We will discuss this more when I get back."

I refuse to wait that long. I need a fucking answer, confirmation, anything, right fucking now!

"Really, Dad, I think we both know a decision has already been made."

My father's face tightened and he leaned back in his chair, turning to Esme. Once it was clear to me that he was not going to argue the point further, I too, looked at my mother.

"Alright," she said, exhaling a long breath. "And you're right, your father and I, and your brother and sister included – we have talked about this."

I pushed down my resentment that I wasn't present in this so-called family meeting. She must have read the irritation in my face because her chin jutted out and her eyes bored into mine.

"Bella can stay here," she said and the flood of relief that went through my body almost made me weak-kneed. But wait, my father agreed? What was the catch? My eyes narrowed at him now. He didn't say anything but his lips thinned.

"I will stay here with her," Mom continued. "And _you_ will go to school."

I almost smiled and let out a whatever-you-say sort of sigh. I didn't see any problem with that. I could enroll at UofC or … I briefly glanced at my father's unreadable face, at Bienen.

Carlisle's poker face was closed to me, but mine, apparently, was very readable to him.

"At Dartmouth."

I pulled a face. "Dad, I don't think we've really discussed that -"

"So, we have more things to talk about when I return," he said with undisguised satisfaction.

I scowled. "I suppose so," I replied, with no small measure of sarcasm.

My mother rose to her feet and walked up to me. She held my face and reached up to kiss my cheek. "Quit while you're ahead, my dear," she whispered. "Go."

I nodded and hugged her.

I looked up and I caught my father's small smile.

Fucking monkey wrench, Dartmouth.

* * *

"Alice," I called out. She has just finished conversing with one of the gardeners. She quickly walked to my side.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Do you have a minute?"

"Of course I don't have a minute, Edward. Look around you," she said with mild sarcasm. She led me anyway to the back of a large tree where the swimming pool was. She sat on a lounger and pointed to the one next to it. I sighed, sitting down.

"I want to marry Bella."

She sat up at that, looking askance at me.

"She's pregnant?"

I snorted. "Is that the only reason to marry? Really, Alice," I said impatiently. "No, as a matter of fact, she's not pregnant."

She blinked rather dumbly. "So, you're out of your mind?" And then she sighed. "Okay … what's wrong?"

"I want something legal binding her to me so I could take care of her."

"That's kind of a drastic move, Edward. I don't think you need to marry her to take care of her. You're already doing that."

"I want to do more."

"You are way too young to be a husband, brother!"

I thought about that for a moment. There was no one else that I want to be my wife and I was sure Bella was it for me. So why wait? We were both eligible to marry and of legal age.

"Does she love you?"

Good question.

"I don't know."

"Well, you do realize you have to ask the girl first, right?"

And there was the rub. Would she say yes?

There was a break in the trees and I watched the men pulling up a giant cone-shaped tent.

"It's a stupid plan, Edward."

"It's my only choice." I looked at her and by her doubtful expression my conviction of the effectiveness of my plan was starting to waiver. "Look, Alice, even if she stayed here with us, her mother would always have some legal authority over her."

I didn't want years of constantly having to seek her out whenever Bella had to have new treatment or something that would require some written consent from a relative. And, liked it or not, Renee was her only close kin.

* * *

I rang the bell of their apartment. It was the day of the party and as planned, I was here to pick up Bella.

It was her mother who opened the door. I could hear voices in the living room.

"Hi Edward, she's waiting for you in her room," she said, moving aside to let me in.

Renee has visitors. A man in a suit was casually sitting on one of the leather armchair. There were also two girls in the room. The youngest – she's about four or five years old - jumped up and ran to Renee. Bella's mother smiled fondly at the girl, who was now tugging at her hand impatiently.

"Hold on, sweetie," said Renee, laughing. The man stood up and regarded me seriously. His stance was friendly so I relaxed a little.

"Edward, this is my fiancé, Phil."

Wait, what? The man, Phil, strode forward and held out his hand to me.

"Edward, it's good to finally meet you."

We shook hands.

"Phil," I murmured. "I'd say likewise but ..." I looked sideways at Renee. "This is the first time I've heard Bella's getting a stepdad."

My mind was racing. I was certain that Bella didn't know about this. If she did, she would have mentioned it. Fuck, where was she? How was she taking this?

"Mama Renee, Mama Renee, let's go to your room _nowie_." The little girl was insistently waving her arm towards the bedroom hallway.

Renee leaned down and lifted her and perched her against a hip. "And this charming little one here is Bree."

"Hi," I said, pulling a smile for the little girl, but in my head I was gritting my teeth. I need to go to Bella. Now.

"Hi, I'm Riley, the future stepdaughter," the other girl, a teenager by her manner and clothes, piped in. "Yeah, I know, it's a guy's name, right?"

The little girl giggled at her sister's comment.

"Right," I said, managing to give her a crooked smile. She blushed but was not shy, she returned my smile with a suggestive one.

I turned to Renee. "I'll go get Bella. We need to leave soon." She nodded and gestured for me to go ahead. "It was nice meeting you all," I said politely.

My heart was pounding as I quickly strode to her room. I was about to knock on her door when it suddenly opened and her arm shot out, clutched my arm and pulled me inside. Her arms were around my waist in a second, her face buried against my chest.

"Hey," I laughed. "Missed me so much, huh?"

She shuddered and hugged me tighter.

"Hey," I said with concern now.

I gently disentangled her arms from my waist and cupped her face. I tried to hide it, but I was shocked at her appearance. The bruise-like color under her eyes were now dark circles and sickly. And her hair was unwashed - I could smell it - and she was still wearing her pajamas.

"Bella," I said softly. "Weren't you expecting me today? I texted you, I told you I was picking you up after lunch."

"What?" She looked confusedly up at me.

"Today, Bella. Party at the Cullens?"

"Oh," she said faintly. She shuffled to her bed and she laid down, curling up into a fetal position.

I sat down on the bed. "What's wrong?"

"I forgot," she mumbled.

"That's alright, we have time. Have you eaten?"

She shook her head. I stood up and when she gasped, I turned back to her. Bella was agitated, her breathing was shallow and fast. But her eyes - her pretty brown eyes - looked strangely flat.

"Are y-you leaving?" she asked in a small, shaky voice.

"No, Bella. I'm going to get you food."

"Please don't leave me."

I slowly sat down on the bed again. I took a deep breath.

"Alright, let me just grab you some clothes and we'd go to my house. Is that okay with you?"

She let out a tremulous sigh, hiccupped, and nodded her head.

I tried not to slam closet doors and drawers, and I didn't even look at the dress that I grabbed. I debated about helping her take a shower before we go, but decided against it. I wasn't staying in this apartment a minute longer if I could help it.

I was taking her with me and we weren't coming back.

* * *

*****a/n**

**Broken Part 3** coming up.


	40. Broken Part3

**Stephenie Meyer's** Twilight.

**Chapter40/Broken Part3**

She hasn't spoken again. She spent the whole drive curled into a ball on the reclined passenger seat, facing away from me.

I opened my mouth several times but what should I say? I had asked her "Are you okay" three times and I got the same mumbled response. The third time, I didn't even get a reply, just a blank look.

As soon as I was parked, I quickly went to her side and opened her door. She looked up at me with that confused expression again.

"We're home, Bella."

She smiled and let out a sigh of relief. She reached out for my hand. I tried to walk slowly to match her pace, but I was in a hurry to get inside the house and in my room, hoping none of my family would see us, would see her like this.

* * *

Bella sat quietly on the bed. I gazed down at her for a moment, assessing her mood. She was looking at her hands. I knelt down and removed her shoes then I reached behind her back to unzip her dress. All the while I was looking at her face. She never once raised her head to look at me.

"Can I help you in the shower, Bella?"

She nodded slowly. I took her hand and led her to the bathroom. She stood just inside the shower stall and paused. She slid off her own dress and in her underwear, she stepped in the shower. I mentally shrugged and turned on the shower knob. She jumped when the water hit her and she would have left but I was blocking the entrance.

"Are you okay?" Those words again. I felt like a damned parrot.

She looked at me and let out a shaky sigh. She nodded slowly.

I removed her soaked bra and panties and handed her the soap. My own shirt was now wet too. I watched her for a moment, making sure she was scrubbing. She wasn't, and she wasn't even looking at her hand holding the soap.

Fully clothed, I went in and helped her scrub herself. I shampooed her hair. After her shower, I assisted her out of the stall and carefully patted her body dry with a thick towel. She turned to the sink but she avoided looking in the mirror. I stared at her face.

"Do you uhh …" I gulped, feeling foolish because I fucking was prepared to brush her own teeth for her. "Need help with your toothbrush?" She didn't speak, but she cleaned her own teeth without any help from me.

I quickly removed my wet t-shirt and pants. I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my waist, and led her back in the room. She still had clothes in my closet. When we left her mother's apartment, I placed as much of her underwear and nightclothes in a duffel bag. And I didn't forget her medicines.

Again, I helped her get dressed. I got a hairbrush and applied it to her hair to get some semblance of order out of her tangles.

After I had put on fresh t-shirt and jeans, I knelt down in front of her. She was sitting on the bed.

"I'm going to get you food. Can I leave you for awhile?" I brushed her damp hair away from her face so I could see her expression.

She stiffened and her hand formed a claw and clutched at my arm. I winced involuntarily, her nails were digging hard onto my skin.

"Bella …" I cupped her face and turned her to look at me. "I won't leave you."

She shook her head violently. She bit her bottom lip and was whimpering.

"Shush, sweetheart. I'll stay." She was perilously close to tears.

I clenched my fists and stood up. _Stay calm, Cullen._

I prayed for numbness, and I was trying very hard not to lose it. I could feel myself starting to gasp for breath. _Don't fucking give in to it!_

I leaned against the wall. The house has an intercom system that nobody actually used. I pressed the button and Mrs. Cope's surprised, but cheerful voice, chirped back. She promised to be up here in less than 15 minutes with leftover lunch. I asked her to leave the tray on the floor and alert me when it was there. I didn't think Bella would appreciate the housekeeper's congeniality today.

I turned around and she was standing beside me. I didn't even hear her approach. She gave me a tentative smile. "I think I _am_ hungry," she whispered.

A memory suddenly came to me. On the plane, the day I met her. She hadn't eaten for some time too, then, and she quietly asked me for food, the same way as she was doing now.

That was three weeks ago. I tried not to torture my mind with thoughts that nothing has changed since, that she was still gripped by this neurosis, and that she was tethering between mania and melancholia.

* * *

She only ate half of her lasagna, a piece of the garlic bread, but drank two bottles of lemonade.

Alice sent me a text inquiring if Bella's with me. I told her not to go to my room and that I would talk to her later. Her text back was asking for an explanation.

_-She's on a down cycle. Can't risk a total breakdown again-_

_-What? Why? What happened?-_

_-Not now. Later-_

_-Fine. Do you need Mom?-_

_-Not yet-_

And five minutes later, from Mom.

_-Everything okay?-_

_-Okay-_

_-See you at the party-_

_-We'll see-_

_-I understand-_

_-TY-_

I looked up from my phone.

Bella was on the sofa, looking out of the window. I studied her profile, searching her face, gauging her mood, trying to look for answers I knew I would never get from her.

I stood in front of her and tried anyway.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She looked up at me with huge, stricken eyes. She shook her head.

"Bella …" I sat down beside her. And suddenly as if a dam burst, she collapsed in my arms, her tears soaking my t-shirt.

"Don't ever leave me," she sobbed.

"No, baby, you know I will never do that," I assured her. "Where else am I gonna go?"

I caressed her back, trying to soothe her. She buried her face against my neck and gasped words I couldn't quite hear.

"Bella, what is it?"

"I said -" she mumbled and then stopped.

"It's okay." I kissed her lips softly. She inched forward and deepened the connection. I smiled against her mouth. I captured her lower lip between my lips and gently sucked.

"I have to s-say it." She started to tell me something, her voice halting and awkward.

And then she said it, the words were whispered so softly it was like breathing it.

"I love you."

I sucked in my breath. I moved back and cupped her face. I wanted to see her eyes and she stared back at me. I saw hope, fear and love etched into her face.

"You love me."

It wasn't a question. And then I smiled, and she smiled shyly in return.

Her voice was still shaky, but she managed to say my name and her words.

"Edward, I love you."

In a flash of motion, her face was again buried on my neck and I was holding her in a tight embrace.

"I love you too, Bella. You don't know _how much _I wanted to tell you."

I grabbed her shoulders and hauled her to her feet.

"You will stay here with me."

She nodded jerkily but she looked suddenly scared.

"Leave Mom?"

The mention of her mother had an effect of snapping her into frantic motion. She stumbled backwards and paced the room, her hand in her hair gripping it.

"Yes, leave her. I should leave her. She hates me." There was both fear and anger in her voice.

"What happened, Bella?"

"She hates me!" she yelled.

"Bella -"

"She hates me, she hates me …"

She hugged her arms to her body.

"She lied. Always lying. Lying all the time. She's a liar. Not like -"

She glanced over her shoulders and then she was in front of me.

"You really love me?" she asked in a small voice, her body which was humming in agitation seconds ago, had gone still.

I slowly placed my hands on her face and quietly, putting will and conviction to my words, I said simply, "I love you. You are my life now."

She tipped her head to the side as if listening to something. She looked over her shoulder, then back at me. She seemed to shake it off, whatever was bothering her.

"You're not a liar. I know you're not," she whispered. She sounded as if she was trying very hard to convince herself of this.

"Sweetheart?"

Her face changed again and she smiled.

* * *

We stayed in the room until it was dark outside. Bella was content to lie on the bed and watch TV. Sometimes she would stare up at the ceiling and say nothing.

All I could think about was that she loved me. And when she was less agitated, I wanted her to repeat the words. To hear the same words not before or after she had been displaying terrific mood swings. Words not uttered in desperation.

I believed her when she told me she loved me. It was the kind of surprise that leave one suddenly weak but elated. Takes time to recover. And truth was it scared the hell out of me, too. Because now, I was keeping her, it starts tonight. I didn't think my parents would be thrilled with this sudden decision. It wouldn't have her mother's consent, for one thing. Way ahead of schedule in the program that was my parents', second.

Ah, fuck.

My thoughts were interrupted when Bella's stomach grumbled. I turned to her then, a wry smile tilting my mouth. "_Can_ I go get our supper? Now that you love me, and I love you?"

She bit off a giggle.

"You promise to be real quick?"

"Yes, ma'am." I kissed her cheek and jumped off the bed and out the door before she changed her mind.

* * *

I stepped to the side, making room for someone who suddenly entered the kitchen. I was about to finish placing food on the tray when the interruption came.

"There you are."

I smiled in spite of myself.

"How are you, Tanya?"

"Party's great!" she said with obvious sarcasm. I snorted.

I opened the fridge to get lemonade. Bella seemed to have developed a craving for the citrus drink.

"So, where were you?"

"Room. Watching TV."

"With Bella?"

"Yeah."

"And you really expect me to think you're just watching TV?"

I shrugged one shoulder and turned away, hiding my humorless smile.

"Do you and Bella have plans next Friday?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"It's my birthday, chic magnet."

I laughed. She laughed. And the awkwardness was broken.

"I'll be there. Same place?"

"Where else? So, I'll see you? You promise?"

"I promise."

There was a shuffling noise near the door and we both turned to see who came in. The doorway was empty.

I kissed Tanya on the cheek and I lifted the heavy tray.

"Thanks for putting together this party with Alice. Sorry I'm missing it."

"Yeah, yeah. Go to Bella," she teased.

* * *

Bella knocked off the food tray from my hands.

"What -"

"You're just like her!"

"Bella, what are you talking about?"

"Liar!"

I gritted my teeth and stepped forward. She screamed, launching herself at me and slapped my face. Shocked, I unthinkingly rounded on her.

"Bella! Stop it!"

She froze and backed off, walking backwards until the back of her knees touched the sofa.

I tried to maintain calm. She's not well, this was _not_ my Bella in front of me, raging like a wounded animal and lashing out for no fucking reason.

All I could do was stand here. I couldn't offer her comfort or reassurance because I was as confused as her.

"Bella …" Carefully. "I will remain here and you can sit down," I said slowly.

She glared at me and sat down. And then she buried her face in her hands and started sobbing.

Alarmed, I stood up but she jerked her head up and shrieked. "No!"

I sat on the edge of the bed.

"No," she cried.

She wouldn't, couldn't stop crying. "Why couldn't I have you?" she was saying. I watched her say a lot of things and none of them made any sense to me.

I didn't have the strength to stand, so I just watched her, stayed with her until exhausted from her crying, she fell asleep.

And as I continued to watch her, for the first time, I felt walls begin to close in around me.

* * *

I woke up abruptly. I didn't intend to sleep but apparently, I did. My ears perked to listen for any sound coming from Bella. There was complete silence. My head snapped up and she wasn't there. The sofa was empty.

I left the bed and opened the bathroom door. She was gone.

I exited my room in a panic, sprinting down the stairway, searching hallways, opening doors. Still no Bella. I could hear soft music coming from outside. I glanced at the clock over the living room fireplace. It was past 1am.

Fuck! How could I fucking sleep that long?

My hands shaking, I dialed Alice's number.

* * *

An hour later Jasper and I were driving around the dark streets, looking and searching. We made several stops, places I had taken Bella. We asked around, showing strangers her photo.

Alice drove to Renee's building, she was to stay in the lobby and watch out for Bella, just in case.

Earlier, we both called Bella's phone and when I heard the ringing in my own room under the sofa my heart sank to my feet. She didn't even bring the fucking phone!

I called Renee and that conversation was so confused. We could barely hear each other. She rambled, wasting my time. She was at O'Hare waiting for her fiancé's flight back to New York, she said. _Who fucking care!_

The second she finally understood that Bella was possibly missing, she turned into a fucking, overrated, mama bear.

"This is your fault! I shouldn't have trusted you!"

Fucking _excuse me!_

"Look, Renee, I don't have time for this. Keep your line open. We've already alerted the police." I hanged up on her.

Emmett was at the police department right this very moment. I knew how these things work, and we had to wait a fucking 24 hours to officially file a missing persons report.

My father went with Emmett to explain to them that Bella has a medical condition and there was immediacy in the situation. I knew Carlisle would exert some influence and could convince the police to start looking for her right away.

God, Bella.

I keep seeing that vision I had in my head before, when I first met her. And I fucking hope it wasn't a premonition. It was Bella, lying on a bed. Dead. And there was a ghastly smile on her lips, as if she had received her wish, that it was what she had been waiting for all her life.

God, Bella.

_Where the fuck are you?_


	41. Murmurs, Bella POV prequel

**Stephenie Meyer's** Twilight.

Fictional Bella Swan is eternally 19. _Bella: "No. No way!" _she protested, arguing that she "died" three days before her birthday on September 13. _"I'm forever 18!" _Edward is of course, frozen at 17. Human Edward was born on June 1, 1901 and human Bella was born in 1987.

**Chapter41/Murmurs (prequel/Bella POV)**

"Is she coming?"

"No, Bella. Your mommy's not coming."

A crowd of black in the living room, whispering.

"Come on, sweetie, do you want some chocolate chip cupcakes?"

I nodded, taking her hand. Annie was wearing black, too.

"What are they saying, Annie?" I pouted. The whisperings were bothering me.

She was in the hospital? Poor woman!

Murmurings.

_Bella!_

_Come play!_

The doctor said it was more than shock. She wouldn't stop screaming.

"Shush now sweetie, don't listen to people talking. That's not nice," said Annie.

Did she see him? Voice lowered. You know, like that? No, the little girl found him, poor child! How old was she?

Hushed questioning.

Oh!

Sniffling.

Mrs. Jenks said the little girl just turned six!

Annie dragged me to the kitchen but I clutched the back of a chair.

I want my mommy!

"Where's Mommy!"

"I'm sorry, Bella. Mommy's not here."

_Sorry._

_We're sorry, too._

Where's Daddy?

_We made you cake! With seashells!_

* * *

**Boston, four years later **

_One of the white suits is here, Bella._

What?

"Bella, Dr. McKinsey is visiting you today." Was that the nurse? I didn't turn around. Just talking, talking. Talking and talking.

I want my mom ...

"Hi, Bella," he said. "I promised you I'll be here for your birthday, don't you remember?"

You said my mom would be here today.

You said she loved me.

You said she brought me here because she cared about me.

"Still not speaking to me?" He sat down on the chair.

_We're not talking to you!_

_Me, too._

My hands clenched and unclenched. I kept looking for Daddy. No, not daddy. _Him_. I clawed at the air, searching. Don't leave me!

_We love you, Bella._

No, not you. Where was he?

I faced away, refusing to budge from the floor.

I could feel the doctor watching me. Watching me grabbed at air. He didn't understand. He didn't see. He wasn't him.

_Bella, Bella … Bella._

Oh, shut up!

Where was he?

They only come, pestering me all day and night, when he was gone! Gone!

_The carpet's as soft as grass by the lake._

_Do you miss us, Bella?_

Yes, now be quiet! I couldn't think.

_We miss you so much, Bella._

"Mrs. Jones and I have a surprise for you, Bella."

_Cake, cake, cake …._

I jumped up and slapped my hand on the cake. The nurse yelped, startled, dropping the ruined cake on the carpet.

Shut up!

_Cake with pearls!_

"Bella, that's not nice."

I glared at him.

_The strange man is right, Bella._

I cried.

_Cries._

"Shut up!"

The doctor sat down on the carpet.

I froze.

"You are 10 years old now, Bella. Do you know what that means?"

_Come, Bella. We're waiting._

I cried harder.

Shut up.

Please, shut up.

_Just close your eyes._

_We're waiting._

_Bella …_

_We're here._

_Close your eyes._

"Bella?"

And I heard splashing. Laughter. Swirling water and the wind! I liked the wind in my hair!

And I wanted to go to them, to laugh too.

Blue, blue creatures.

_Starfish!_

But I have to stop breathing again. I must stop breathing.

_Breathe water._

It was the only way, to be with them. To be happy. To be with Daddy.

I ran. And ran.

I didn't hear Mom calling my name. Was she here? But she was never here. Must be the doctors. I didn't care for doctors. They make you talk and talk. They never stop even when you were crying.

I followed the laughter.

_Hurry! _

I ran faster.

_Daddy's here!_

Daddy's waiting.

* * *

**7th grade/middle school, lunch hall (Boston)**

I didn't want to go in there. I hated the whisperings. And that word. I hated that word.

"Oh, hi crazy girl!"

"Hey, crazy girl is here."

"Did you bring your mermaid suit today, crazy girl?"

I dropped my books and I ran. I could run really fast. I was used to it by now.

I was born crazy, I would die crazy. My father was crazy therefore I should be, too. _His_ mother was crazier.

_Crazy._

* * *

**February (current year in story), seven months before boarding the plane bound for Chicago (Aunt Marge's home)**

"Aunt Marge? Can … can I talk to you?"

"Come in, Bella."

"I want to go home."

"You are home, Bella."

"I want to find Mom."

"You don't need to do that, Bella. I just got a call from her. She's coming over in two weeks."

"Why didn't she talk to me?"

"I don't know, Bella. I wish I could tell you why."

But she never came for me.

She never did.

* * *

**April, while in Irvine Medical (mental health hospital in London). Bella was confined for 3 months**

Because my mother hated me, I would have to die. It was her who gave birth to me, brought me unto this world. She would take me out of it, too.

"Do you think that by drowning yourself, you are doing what they are telling you?"

I never told her that. Did I?

Why were they always drawing the wrong conclusions about me? I did not drown myself! I fell on the lake!

I stared forward, just walls. There were no windows on this side.

The last time was better. The last time I wanted to say something. Did I finally say it? It didn't matter. I was _willing_ to say something. But I didn't.

"Tell me, Bella. Tell me what's on your mind? Am I wrong? Is that why you refuse to talk, because we don't understand you?"

I was starting to forget the things she once told me, about Daddy. I was forgetting him. I didn't want to forget. I had to find her, ask her to tell me again. I didn't want to ever forget my father.

She was never here. And when she was home, she hides in her room. I could hear her crying sometimes. Was it me? Was I not the daughter that she wanted?

"You are selfish!" Mom cried, tearing at her hair. "You are just like your _Dad_."

She was mad because I filled up the tub one day, and let the water flow over. I didn't tell her that it grew into a lake. I would see many, many creatures. They all wanted me to join them. They said that they would take care of me, that they know where Daddy was.

Sometimes, I would see my mother in the lake. My _real_ mother. But then she was sad, too, and she was floating above the lake. She said she was lonely. I never wanted to make my mother sad. I wanted to be with Mom forever.

Maybe that was why she was sad, she wanted her daughter to prove her love to her.

So, one day, I filled up the tub and breathed water. It was the only way.

The water overflowed and it seeped out until water slipped under the closed door. My mother, walking in the hallway, noticed the water. She opened the door and she saw me. Next thing I knew, I was in a new home where there were doctors, and nurses, and children like me.

I was here again. And there were no more children.

My doctor said something. I never really knew her name. I knew the nurse who gives me my medicines in plastic cups. I knew the name of the one who made me cry and vomit from electric shock once a week - Ms. Frankenstein. She had a scary zigzag scar on her neck.

But my doctor said a word. She wasn't supposed to say it. Not out loud, not while I was here in front of her.

I did not do that, I said.

She droned on, spouting medical terms, listing all my crimes as if I really did all that. Immobility. Bizarre. Catatonic.

I did not do those things!

_Louder._

"I did not do that!"

She stopped. I see a triumphant glint in her eye.

I cringed. Did I yell? I mustn't yell. The last thing I want was to be placed in seclusion. I could drown there. They didn't know that. If they confined me again in that closet, I would not be able to breathe. There was no air.

"Do what?"

_Don't tell her._

I opened my mouth, taking a deep breath.

_Don't, Bella._

"I'm not a suicide," I muttered.

_They'll take us away again. _

_Make you forget._

"I'm not a suicide," I repeated.

"You screamed and cried when one of the other patients called you that," Dr. Whats-Her-Face said.

Why was she bringing that up?

I _did_ not do that!

_She'll make you forget us, Bella._

"What were you trying to do then?"

I just wanted my real mother.

_We know._

To see Daddy.

_Daddy's here._

It was the only way.

* * *

**July, two months before Chicago (Aunt Marge's home)**

"I want to be normal," I mumbled.

"What did your therapist say?" My aunt was frowning. She was a good person but talks like this make her uncomfortable.

"He said I will be … normal. Eventually," I said weakly. What did eventual really mean? Eventually I do, eventually I die. Which would come first? I become normal? Or I die?

The years were a blur. My memories comprise of clinics, sometimes the big hospitals, doctors and more doctors. Sometimes, when I was quiet enough, I could still hear them.

The creatures of my past.

My friends of the lake.

But they were not real. Not now. They never were.

"Do you want me to call your mother?"

No!

"No, please don't do that."

I stood and walked over to the windows. It was getting dark.

My aunt stayed where she was. I could sense her nervousness. The last time we talked about my mother, she took me to the hospital the next day. I didn't remember what happened.

It was nighttime then, too. What I did recall was that I was only feeling restless. Thoughts of my mother always bring conflicting emotions in me.

I walked and walked and ended up by the lake. I didn't even know there was a small lake there. I rounded a corner, and there it was.

But right then, by the lake, at least for a moment, I wasn't alone. I hadn't felt him in years. Not Dad. My father was dead. It was _him_. And I felt warm and safe for the first time in a long time.

Since I was a child I had this dream that I was loved. Whenever I was sad or frightened, I would feel a strong hand gripping mine and it would calm me.

As I was growing up, I realized I didn't have to be asleep to feel the hand. To feel its reassuring hold, its firm protective grip. I could close my eyes, and then my hand was in his gentle, sometimes firm clasp, telling me he would not let me go. He kept me out of hospitals for years.

Even the lake folk agreed. He would make me feel better, they said.

I couldn't tell mom. She would give me that look again. And I knew she was seeing him, not me. Not _him_ … Daddy. And she would cry.

But he was gone, too. In an instant. And I panicked. I wasn't asking too much, was I? I knew it but I didn't care. I was just so sick of being alone.

And everything was blurry, hazy, and I couldn't hear or move. The last thing I saw was the lake and he was no more.

* * *

**4am London time, six hours before boarding the plane to Chicago (Heathrow Airport, London)**

"What's that?"

_Giggling._

The woman in front blinked sleepily at me. She was standing near a counter.

"What's what?" she mumbled, her hand covering a yawn.

"The woman speaking!"

"The public announcement?" She looked at me as if I was crazy.

I was _not_ crazy!

But she was moving away. She knew I was ...

_No_. I was not crazy!

What did I just do?

Not well. Not good. I couldn't do this.

_Giggling._

"Did you say something?" I whispered to the person next to me. No answer. I slowly swiveled my head. There was no one next to me.

"Ms. Swan?"

I jumped and whipped my head forward. There was a man behind a counter. I frowned. What was I doing here? I looked at him blankly. He was holding something in his hand. He said it was my passport and where was I going?

I followed a line and I had no idea, didn't know. It was the shortest line. The man was asking something of me. He said a name, a destination, and I nodded.

"You need a visa."

I need to be normal!

"W-what?"

"You can't enter the country without a visa."

Please, help me.

A bubble was spreading inside my head, cloaking all outside noises.

What?

What was he saying?

I couldn't hear him!

"Are you going to Spain?"

Yes.

_No._

No.

I shook my head at him.

I grabbed my passport and ran.

I stopped when I realized there were no more people. Where did everyone go?

_Giggling._

I walked slowly, more briskly, and I was running again. I ran and ran until I collided with a solid thing and I was flung on the tiled floor. A spiel of apologetic noises swirled above my head and I was hauled up. I was standing again.

"Miss, are you okay?" An American accent.

I stared at his dark blue uniform, frowning. There was another blue creature to his right, but it was fading, shimmering, teasing.

"I'm … buying a ticket," I said quickly before he too disappeared.

He smiled at me, made sure I was not wobbling by myself, retrieved my scattered belongings and handed these to me.

"Welcome to United Airlines, ma'am, please wait a moment while I complete another transaction." He returned behind his counter.

Numbly, I stood behind a tall man in a suit. I didn't know how long I stared at his brown suit.

"Thank you for ... ma'am. May I … passport … where …"

I watched his mouth. I didn't understand why he wasn't making a sound. His mouth stopped moving and he nodded at me. I nodded back. He seemed to smile, his lips turned up. He was asking me for something. I gave him something. I waited. And then I was sitting down, papers in my hand.

My mouth trembled but my entire body was detaching. I couldn't make sense of it all.

The bubble was closing in around me.

_Giggling._

I tried to breathe, exhale. I heard gasping and I couldn't feel, or hear, or see, or know pain.

_Oh, Bella._

I only wanted to be normal.

* * *

*****a/n**

This chapter is also posted as a one-shot fic. Thank you for reading.


	42. Angela, Bella POV prequel

**Stephenie Meyer's** Twilight

**a/n:** It's about a girl, battling with a mental disorder all her life, and why she wanted to have a friend.

**Chapter42/Angela (prequel/Bella POV)**

**August (the year before, in the story timeline). Bella has been staying in London with her aunt for 8 months**

"Her name is Angela."

I quickly dropped the curtains I had set aside. The rustle of fabric sounded guilty. Still, I pretended that I hadn't been spying on our neighbor. I turned from the living room window, feeling my cheeks turning pink.

My aunt gave me a knowing look, but she was smiling.

"She's a lovely girl, you know. She has been asking about you."

"She was?"

Aunt Marge nodded.

Again I pulled the curtain aside, looking at our neighbor. She was taking bags of groceries out of her car. I grinned. It was the cutest minibug I had ever seen.

I sometimes wished I could drive a car, too.

I mentioned it once to my aunt. It was the wrong topic to discuss with her. She loathed left-hand driving.

We're Americans, she said. We were a danger to English roads.

My aunt employed a driver instead, a Scots, Mr. Garret. I liked him a lot, especially his Scottish accent. He reminded me of groundskeeper Willie in Springfield Elementary School in the Simpsons.

Mr. Garret was one of the company chauffeurs in my aunt's firm but when he retired, Aunt Marge offered him a post-retirement job and he gladly accepted.

I had been suspecting that I was the reason why my aunt suddenly had a need for a car and driver. She was a happy commuter for the past 20 years or so, before I showed up.

Mr. Garret was hired a week before I arrived in London.

It wasn't really necessary since I never go out of the house. There wasn't any need or requirement, except for every two weeks.

I was privately tutored. My teacher comes 4x a week for three hours each session. My aunt also employed two house helpers and I was told to never lift a finger around the house.

I wasn't trying to anyway. I was afraid of making a mess if I tried.

But, I would sneak in the kitchen at night. I found this thick recipe book of sandwiches that I really liked.

I thought I was being canny about it, but my aunt knew of my midnight sojourn to her kitchen.

One night she left me a note, telling me to cook whatever I wanted and to leave Jane, one of the helpers, a list of ingredients that I needed.

My aunt was nice. She was my dad's only sister. She used to have a husband but then he died. I was sad about that. I could have had many cousins but my aunt had no children.

Sometimes I think my aunt was adopted. She was so … _normal_.

Not like my dad.

Not like me.

No. Not like us.

Sometimes I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She seemed stuck with me. She was a very reserved person and here I was, invading her space. I wished I wasn't such a burden. My own mother -

I sighed.

I didn't want to go there. I couldn't. Dr. Evans said I wasn't ready yet.

* * *

The only time I had to leave the house was when I had to see my doctor, every 15 days.

He was the nicest psychiatrist I ever had. And I've had many, believe me. Dozens! I couldn't recall all of their names. I remember Dr. McKinsey. He was my doctor when I was 10.

"Bella …"

I turned to my aunt. We had just finished breakfast. It was a rare time when we were eating together. My aunt was a high-ranking executive and she was very important in her office. That meant she was working all the time.

This morning I had her complete attention. She was looking at me with a thoughtful expression, as if she really wanted to understand me. Because she cared about what happened to me.

"Bella … are you happy here?"

I didn't know how to answer her.

Was I happy?

Was I supposed to be happy?

How was someone like me, ever supposed to be happy?

* * *

I was 11 when I first heard that word.

I thought it was just a word used commonly, in normal conversation, like "depressed".

I told myself it was just like being called "weird".

That was a laugh. Those words.

Then there were other words that I would rather not think about. Like that word that accused me of trying to murder myself. Or that word that kids in my school used to hurl at me behind my back and to my face. It meant nothing to them to say it, but it hurt me.

All those words I could bear. But not _The Word_.

* * *

I accidentally found my medical records the day I turned 11.

Case Record Folder of Isabella Marie Swan (born September 13, 1991)

Institution: Mercy Children's Hospital (Boston, Mass.)

Date Admitted: August 8, 2001

Diagnostic Impression at Admission:

1. Psychoneurotic Depressive

2. Bipolar 1 Disorder

3. Borderline Personality (pre-adolescence)

Established Diagnosis/Mental Disorder: Catatonic Schizophrenia (periodic)

It was _The Word_.

* * *

There were many, many words then. Scary words. Damning words. Words I didn't want to think had anything to do with me, of who I was, of who I would always be.

These words - strung impersonally as sentences, then paragraphs, then whole pages - showed that what I had was a serious mental illness.

"The patient (me) is unable to interpret reality in what is considered to be a normal way ..."

A normal way?

"The patient (me) can appear frozen, not able to speak or respond to other stimuli ..."

"The patient (me) alternate between frozen state and the excited state, referred to as catatonia. While these are the most characteristic symptoms of this disorder, there are others. These include having delusions, speaking incoherently, becoming angry for no reason, hallucinating, having no emotional reactions and social isolation."

Yes ... I was crazy.

Yes, I did attempt ... suicide.

But dear god, I didn't want to be incurable or useless.

I couldn't be a schizophrenic.

* * *

Normal people have best friends.

That was why I now find myself standing outside her door.

I had just raised my hand to lift the brass door knocker when the door flew open.

I bit off a scream. She was immediately contrite.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Bella! I didn't mean to startle you!"

I smiled weakly. I nodded "hello" to her. At least, I hoped that was what I was doing. I better say it out loud, I thought.

"H-hello?"

"Hi!"

I felt like an idiot. Worse, I felt so abnormal.

I turned to go but she stopped me by placing her hand on my arm. I froze.

"Oh, sorry," she mumbled, dropping her hand.

I stared at her. She smiled at me. I felt my lips moving, trying to imitate her smile.

* * *

It was all hers. This friendship. It happened because of her - Angela, my best friend.

I discovered that with a best friend, you only have to listen.

I didn't have to talk, or squeal for no apparent reason. She didn't force me to do anything.

I really didn't mind her chatter. When Angela was in the room, I didn't hear anything else. Just her. My best friend.

We even have identical mobile phones. Hers was orange, a bubbly color like her. Mine was blue. Blue was my favorite color. It reminded me of -

Anyway. I have always liked blue.

Angela convinced Aunt Marge to give me a daily allowance. I didn't want it. But Angela was persistent, so my aunt got me plastic money. I never used it but I liked having it. It was what every normal teenager has.

I think I was happy.

Angela was happy.

She said she has a boyfriend. His name was Ben. We haven't met.

"Do you -" I stopped, hesitating. There was something I wanted to ask her.

She smiled at me and it was in encouragement. So I took a deep breath.

"Do you like holding his hand?"

And she laughed, but she wasn't laughing at me. She was laughing because she was just really cheerful, and I was her silly best friend.

"Oh, Bella! Of course I do. I like everything about him. I like kissing him, too." She winked. I blushed. I had once kissed a boy but that was a long time ago. His name was Mike and he was also a patient at Mercy Hospital.

"But … do you like holding his hand?" I really wanted to know.

"Well, yes! Very much so. Why?"

"I … I like holding his hand, too. It calms me," I whispered.

"Isabella Swan! You've got a boy somewhere! Who? Who!"

I shook my head at her, looking away.

I didn't have a "boy". He wasn't a boy. He was more than a boy. He was … a presence. Like an angel.

"Tell me, Bella," said Angela, quiet now, not her usual squealing self. Not that I minded her little shrieks.

"One day I will tell you," I said quietly.

* * *

These were the days that I made an effort to remember.

With Aunt Marge, and now Angela, I could think of other words, like "hope" and "dreams". These were better words, words that would never hurt me, or cause my mother sadness, or make me feel sick.

I could have the life that I used to have with my Daddy and Mom when we were living in our small home on Williams Street in Boston.

Maybe there was more to me now than what it seemed.

* * *

*****a/n**

Thank you for reading. I also posted this prequel as a one-shot fic in "Murmurs". The story will resume with Chapter 43, to be uploaded on Monday.


	43. Gone

Still **Stephenie Meyer's**

**Chapter43/Gone**

She had been missing for eight hours. It was now the next day.

We had split up our search.

Emmett's direction was the L subways. Jasper's was the Metra which had less stops, and the suburbs.

My mother has joined Alice across town and they went up to Renee's building's security office to try calling airlines, to check on bus schedules and request as much access as they could of the logged calls made to cab companies in the last 10 hours.

My dad was sticking close to the police and at the same time, he was monitoring hospitals.

I was surprised to learn that Rosalie volunteered to pick up Renee from O'Hare earlier. And if I had given it any thought, which I didn't, I would have found it amusing to think Rosalie and Renee would be spending time together.

My route was the bus and train stations for out-of-town trips. I had checked and continue to re-check every 30 minutes Bella's credit card in case she made any purchases in the last hours, or used it to pay for hotels or transpo tickets.

I had arrived at Union Station two hours ago. I couldn't let myself panic, thinking Bella was in here, perhaps was _still_ in this chaotic mess of a station.

This was a most unsafe place for anyone to be, especially a stranger to Chicago, and the thought that she was ever here, exposed to this confusing, claustrophobic mass of commuters, was torturing my mind.

I had scoured the ticketing counters, searching all restrooms, and some of the shops inside. I plunged in the midst of scurrying passengers, forcing myself rudely in the jammed corridors, elbowing people out of my way.

_Think, Cullen, think! Where would she go?_

A blinking light up on the wall suddenly caught my roving eye. The neon light was signaling the arrival of an Amtrak train from its departing station and I looked up at the sign unerringly.

My heart stopped. I stared at the schedules for "Boston" lighting up the train boards, the hair at the back of my neck bristled.

_Fucking of course!_

And I knew, and I was fucking certain.

Bella would go home, to Boston.

I sprinted to where the rows of ticketing counters were located, stepping ahead of everyone to question personnel behind each Amtrak counters. It had been almost nine hours since she had ran away but I tried to get as much information as I could.

None of the people I asked remembered Bella. I questioned them again and again, showing her photo. Nothing. No one had seen her. No one fucking cared.

In my frustration, I punched a wall and slapped my open palm repeatedly against the tiles.

"Hey, dude -" I whirled around, growling, and the guy stumbled back a step. Blood was gushing from a wound on the palm of my hand.

"What!"

"Just trying to help, man." He raised both hands in a gesture of mock surrender. "I heard you asking about a girl. I just got off duty I'm a night guard."

Immediately, I showed him Bella's photo. "Have you seen her? When?"

"Oh yeah, she was here late last night. Don't remember the time."

"Did you notice where she went? A train?"

"Dunno which one but she boarded an Amtrak to -". He scratched his head. "There weren't a lot of people on that train."

"Boston?" I gritted out.

"Yeah! South Station!"

I didn't waste time. I yelled a thank you behind my shoulder and ran back towards the ticketing counter. I confirmed that a daily non-stop Lake Shore Limited had left for Boston at approximately nine hours ago.

Boston was a little over 1,000 miles from Chicago. She would be traveling for 22 hours and 40 minutes by train.

Bella would be disembarking at Boston's South Station in less than 14 hours.

I hurried outside to my car. I quickly called an airline and booked a flight to Boston. I would have to wait some fucking hours for my flight but I tried to calm myself. Including my drive to Midway and waiting period for the plane's arrival, I was confident I'd be in Boston in five or six hours. That was enough time to travel to Bella's stop and wait for her to get off the train.

For the first time in fucking hours, I let out a relieved breath.

* * *

From the airport, I called my parents. I had already sent brief text messages to Alice, Emmett and Jasper informing them where I was and letting them know they could all go home.

"Keep your self together, Edward," said Esme.

I choked off a slightly hysterical laugh. "Trying, Mom."

"Your sister will bring you clothes and whatever else you need. She and Jasper are on their way."

I didn't even think to go home to pack a few things, but now I was grateful at Alice's thougtfulness. Sometimes I think my sister was smart enough, and definitely wise enough, to think for all of us three.

"Edward." It was Carlisle. I gulped, fighting back real hysteria now.

"Dad, did you inform the police to contact Boston?"

He already did, he said. And he was going to do more than that. "I'm taking a flight out tomorrow, son. You shouldn't be alone."

"You don't have to do that. You have work."

"You shouldn't be alone, Edward," he repeated.

"Send Jasper. I … I don't think I can stand … I just can't."

There was a brief silence, then, "I understand, son. But your mother and I, we are here. We support you in this."

"I know, Dad," I replied quietly.

The next person I called was the one person I would have avoided at all costs.

"I'm going to Boston, Renee," I told her. There was silence on the other end of the line for so long I thought she had hanged up on me.

"I can't go with you," she said faintly.

"I don't expect you to," I said, tempering my tone. "Where would she go?"

"Williams Street," she said at once.

It was the house where Bella grew up in, the same house where her dad shot himself.

* * *

The crowd of passengers at Boston's Logan Airport was unbelievable.

I lugged the carry-on backpack that Alice managed to throw at me before boarding the plane two hours and a half ago and quickly strode to my destination. I took the silver line T to South Station.

I realized this was the first time I had ever arrived in Boston like this. Two years ago we visited one of my father's colleagues at Harvard. But while my parents flew, we challenged ourselves by driving the full 12 hours from Chicago to Boston. I had just received my driver's permit and I clocked in more than half of the long-distance drive.

I nervously paced the train while the minutes turned to several minutes and then reached more than 30.

When the doors finally slid open, I jumped out and asked directions for the Amtrak stations. I located the appropriate rail and once there, I looked up at the schedule board.

Three hours more.

I couldn't sit. I was too wired to sit. So I forced myself to sit down in one of the benches in the waiting area. It was late afternoon.

I didn't know what I was going to say to her when I find her. Be mad? Reprimand her, tell her that was a bad, bad thing to do? As if she was a child?

Two hours to go.

I looked up at the digital board for the 100th time. The train seemed to be on schedule. The arrival time was unchanged.

In the downtime, my brain seemed to lock into focus a thought that I had been avoiding since yesterday, when I picked up Bella from her mother's.

I felt walls closing in on me again and I couldn't ignore it any longer. When we get back to Chicago, I was bringing her to the hospital. I knew I must.

She wasn't well, not for some time. Not since her mother arrived. Perhaps even before that, after the car accident.

I stood up when there was just 45 minutes to go. Thirty minutes. Twenty.

The public announcement suddenly boomed, not just a droning tone now but more urgent. They were re-routing her train and it was stopping at a different platform. I cursed aloud.

I glanced at the clock. Fucking 10 minutes. I ran as fast as I could. By the time I got there, passengers were already disembarking and there was a long trail of people leaving.

I peaked at windows trying to see where Bella was. Passenger after passenger, they alighted from the train, but there was no Bella.

Shit!

"I've got to go inside," I told the train crew who was posted at the entrance.

"Sorry, sir, that's not allowed."

"Look, my girlfriend is on that train and she's not well."

The train crew signaled to a co-worker and he gestured for me to go inside the train. We searched in all the cars, other compartment cells, and the sleeper rooms.

No Bella.

By this time I was beyond panicking.

"She's not here, sir."

Fuck!

I jumped off the train and ran to the taxi counter. With great impatience, I gave them the address of where I needed to go.

* * *

It was near dark when I arrived at the Swans' old house.

The new owners were home. All the downstairs windows were lighted. There was a small wagon car parked in the short driveway.

I told the cab driver to wait for me. I quickly approached the front door and rang the bell.

_What the fuck would I say to these people?_

God, Bella. Be here. Be here. Be here.

The door opened and a small boy was looking up at me. Before I could open my mouth, a woman - his mother, they have the same blonde coloring - appeared behind him.

"Oh, hello. Is there anything I can do for you?" She was wary but not overly suspicious.

"My name is Edward Cullen and I apologize to have bothered you."

I spoke slowly and tried to explain the situation, what I needed to do, as best as I could. After showing my credentials and letting her talk to my father (no one could ever doubt Dr. Cullen, and no one could say no to him when he wanted to get inside someone's house), I was invited inside.

They were the Banners and the boy's name was Eric.

"Do you think she will really come here?" The boy's dad asked me for the third time. I reined in my impatience. After all, I was intruding on their evening.

_Hell, I don't fucking know._

Where else would she go?

This was her home, her _only_ home. This was her anchor all these years. I was certain that three weeks ago, when she boarded the plane at Heathrow, she would have ended up here if we hadn't met on the plane.

The Banners were gracious enough to offer me supper. I had to stay awhile in their home so I accepted.

By 2am, I had to leave. Mrs. Banner helped me book a room in the nearest hotel, which was still too far from Williams Street. They promised to call me as soon as Bella showed up.

My plan was that after I checked-in, I would go to the local police and file a statement, to help them in fucking whatever, anything! I couldn't just sit in the room and wait. I would go fucking mad.

I was about to leave the room when my phone buzzed.

"Mom?"

"I just got your text. Are you in the hotel now?"

"Yes, I was about to -"

"Edward, stay there. Sleep. There's nothing more you can do," she said firmly, allowing no protests or arguments from me.

Esme was well aware of the events of the last 10 hours since I arrived in Boston. We had been on the phone constantly.

"I can't. Mom -"

"Please, honey. I'm worried about you. You have to slow down. Okay?"

I sighed, defeated.

So fucking tired.

"I will, Mom."

* * *

Bella had been missing for four days.

She was, officially, on the Missing Persons List both in Chicago and Boston.

I couldn't even begin to describe how the last four days had been. I spent most of my time on Williams Street.

I had long since gone past the phrase "at wit's end".

During mornings I drive a hired car around Boston like a fucking lunatic. Every fucking day, I scour the neighboring suburbs.

On my second day here, Jasper and Emmett arrived. My father thought it best that Emmett accompany me too, and I was grateful for them. We would take turns in the patrolling.

On the third day, I discovered that there was no lake in the neighborhood, not even anywhere near the small suburb. For some reason, I had assumed there was a lake here somewhere.

For four days I waited for Bella.

When I wasn't doing patrol car duty, I would go around the neighborhood and search around, ask around, showing her photo to everyone I meet in the streets.

Sometimes, Eric would join me. Mr. Banner would sometimes join me, too.

On the fifth day, the Boston skies opened up and heavy rains flooded the streets. Jasper and Emmett stayed in the hotel since patrolling was simply unproductive in the pouring rain.

On this fifth day, I was sitting, numbed, in the Banners' living room blindly staring at the TV. I could have been sitting there for hours. My mind had gone blank with worry, panic, defeat. I was just fucking so exhausted. No one had seen her and the police were fucking clueless.

I didn't notice him at first, so the little boy tugged at my left ear and he was whispering something to me.

"What is it?" I asked, my voice raspy. I tiredly rubbed my stubbly jaw, trying to make some sense of my surrounding.

"There's a girl outside," he whispered.

I bolted out of the living room so fast the armchair I had been sitting on overturned.

I quickly ran past the front door and in the pouring rain, I saw her.

Bella was standing still, watching me. But she wasn't watching _me_ she was looking up at the house.

She was wearing the same blue dress she had on the day she ran away.

Slowly, slowly, I approached her. I wanted to yell and cry, tear someone, anything, to pieces. But all I could do was clench my jaw, hard.

She didn't move. Her drenched hair was plastered all over her ashen face, covering most of her eyes.

"Bella?"

She stood frozen, her sightless dark eyes fixed forward.

I slowly drew her to me, pulling her closer, closer, until our bodies were pressed together.

"It's alright, sweetheart. You're safe now."

* * *

The three of us were waiting outside of the hospital's emergency room.

I was tensed. She was brought to another room for the kit tests. My hands were fisted too tight my knuckles were white.

"Be calm, bro," warned Emmett.

How could I? How could I fucking stay calm? Bella was gone for five days. I couldn't ask her where she had been, or what had happened to her, or if she had been assaulted or had anything criminal or illegal done to her person.

I shook off my brother's hand on my shoulder. He fucking had no idea what this was doing to me.

After more than two fucking hours the doctor finally came out.

"Mr. Cullen? For Isabella Swan?"

I nodded curtly at him.

"She's clean."

* * *

Two staff from one of Chicago's private behavioral hospital met us at Midway the following morning. A medical representative from its affiliate center in Boston had escorted Bella on the plane.

"Go home and … thank you," I said to Jasper and Emmett. They insisted on sticking with me but I asked them to go. My mother was on her way there anyway, I told them. I wouldn't be alone.

I held Bella's cold hand all the way to the hospital. She was sedated. I argued with the hospital that there was no need to - she was in a stupor, frozen state and wouldn't bother anyone.

But the hospital and the airline company had policies for these things based on custodian documentation, and so she had to be medicated for the "safety" of the other passengers. I barely restrained myself from punching the airline crew in the face when he referred to Bella as a mentally-handicapped passenger.

At the hospital, because my mother called ahead and she knew people there, I was allowed to accompany Bella in the examination room. Dr. Weisberger's office had been contacted so her medical records were already at hand.

My mother arrived 30 minutes later. I met her in the waiting area while Bella was being transferred to a private room.

"Oh, honey," she mumbled against my chest, hugging me tight. She was crying. "I'm so sorry."

I wrapped my arms around her and held on. My body was shaking badly.

"Tell me she'd be okay, Mom." I begged. "Please ..."

I thought mothers would always tell their children what they wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry, Edward."

* * *

I was allowed only five minutes in her room.

Her eyes were open. The doctor said she had been given medication to "wake" her up. I didn't ask them how they did it. I was afraid I would not like it and end up hitting the doctor. And in my current emotional and psychological state, I was likely to beat the living shit out of him.

Her eyes were open but she wasn't awake.

I watched her lying so still on the bed. Her face, her arms were so pale, as white as the linen. She looked so cold and I couldn't even embrace her, offer her comfort.

I leaned down and I gently brushed my mouth against her cool lips.

"I love you."

My world as I knew it, slipped away.

"I love you, Bella."

She didn't hear, couldn't listen or understand what I was telling her. She didn't know where she was, who she was. She was unable to register anything and anyone, anymore. She wasn't responding any longer.

Because Bella was gone.


	44. The first week

Within a month of its release in 2005, Twilight by **Stephenie Meyer** was in the top 5 of The New York Times' YA bestsellers' list.

**Chapter44/The first week**

Bella was transferred two days later at UofC medical center psychiatric department. It wasn't lost on me that the building's name was also Mercy Hospital, same as the Boston clinic she was confined to almost 11 years ago.

For three days I waited. And all that time, I seemed to have developed new nervous ticks and something inside my chest felt shaky. I also felt unfocused and restless.

And no fucking wonder, I thought, grinding my teeth in frustration. The last time I saw Bella was the day we returned from Boston.

I had spent 72 hours of my stalled life at that hospital waiting area. It was fruitless waiting, my mother had warned me, but I couldn't leave her. Considering I've had weeks to think about this, I couldn't still wrap my head around it.

It was like I was hospitalized myself. My sister would come over and bring me books and change of clothes. Jasper would sometimes accompany me for hours. And I appreciated it, his silence was soothing. There was no judgment, no unwanted counseling, just his bro presence. They alternate, one day it was Jasper, the next it was Emmett. My brother's time was limited because he had been attending pre-term orientation.

Of Bella's mother, I had no idea where she was. Alice said that during the time we were in Boston, Esme visited Renee. My sister didn't know what had transpired between the mothers but we could speculate pretty easily.

When Mom came home that day, she was forbidding and perniciously silent. She was in the kitchen the entire afternoon, according to Alice.

"Cookies, Edward. Batches and batches of cookies. You know what that means," she said.

It meant my mother "had a word" and likely exchanged words with Bella's mom, hence the cookies. Mom's only quirkiness was that when she was angry at someone, she bakes. The fact that she baked _batches and batches_ of cookies indicated that her mood was very direful after her talk with Renee. Call it her anger management session.

No wonder we haven't seen or heard from Renee since we came back.

Of Bella's Aunt Marge in London, it was Alice who called her. I felt ashamed, but I deliberately and cowardly avoided the responsibility of informing Bella's intimidating relative of recent events. I felt as if I had let her down.

"Renee knows Bella's here, right?" I asked my sister for the 100th time. I had tried to ring her phone twice on the first day and once yesterday, but she wasn't answering it.

"You know what they say," she said, sighing. "She's away with the fairies."

* * *

I had been waiting at Mercy Hospital's lobby for close to an hour. Slightly agitated, I paced the floors, waiting for Carlisle. I wasn't allowed inside at the moment, but the hell of it was that they couldn't tell me exactly _when_ I could see her.

I went to the information desk and inquired about visiting schedules, for want of something to do, something to occupy my mind before I myself become a patient here.

The psychiatric ward offers special visitation windows and I quickly signed that form. I indicated "daily" as desired frequency of visitations.

Restless again, I resumed my pacing. After another 30 minutes, my phone buzzed. It was my father.

"I'm here at second level, Edward. Ask the nurse to escort you to the ED's visitors' lounge," was his quick instruction. I was there in less than 10 minutes.

He indicated that I sit down opposite him, a small conference table between us. The door opened and Dr. Weisberger and another doctor entered.

"Good morning, doctors," my father said, standing up to shake their hands. "Victoria, you've met my son." We nodded at each other. "And this is Dr. Eleazar Santiago, Edward." We shook hands. "He will be Bella's primary doctor."

Carlisle called the meeting to order as soon as we were all sitting down.

"Mrs. Swan has given us her permission to speak on her behalf."

I was surprised to hear this.

My mother had volunteered to coordinate with Renee and to bring her to the hospital this morning. She turned down Esme's offer to pick her up from her place. She hasn't arrived yet and frankly, I didn't care. I did send her a text message reminding her of this meeting. She didn't reply and it didn't surprise me, at all. But, apparently, she made some attempt to contact my father.

I pushed Renee and her issues out of my head when Bella's psychiatrist began to talk.

"Dr. Cullen, Edward - before I go over Ms. Swan's case, Dr. Weisberger will brief both of you of the updated psychiatric evaluation of the patient." He then clarified that the evaluation was based purely on what was on file and her medications since they have yet to conduct the series of interviews with Bella, and this would require hours of psychiatric and psycho-therapy sessions.

Once Bella was functional, he said, the work could begin. Right now a team of mental health clinicians were closely monitoring Bella so they could examine all possible causes and other related problems. I glanced at my father and he gave me a reassuring smile.

Dr. Weisberger started talking then. She was addressing everyone in the room but her eyes were on me. "We've treated Isabella with a benzodiazepine drug, given intravenously, to relieve her of her symptoms. It is a sedative and often used in psychiatric emergencies. And yes, Edward, before you ask, she is awake."

I breathed a sigh of relief at her words. She further explained that Bella would have to be injected with the drug several times more. This could take weeks, she said, to ensure the symptoms were held at bay.

"However we will take her off her antipsychotic medications for awhile because we think these are worsening her condition," Dr. Weisberger continued.

"But what will happen if you do that? Do you have a replacement?" I asked.

I might not know much about medications for schizophrenics but I knew enough to know that antidepressants weren't that effective without antipsychotic or neuroleptic drugs.

"We think the medication that she was using is no longer effective to control her symptoms. Her dosage is at its lowest effective dose but even so, she may have developed intolerance for it, hence, the depression and anxiety attacks, which brought on the relapse of her symptoms. Edward," she said, gently. "Isabella has a long psychiatric history and we are reviewing her past medications to see which had a tendency to cause withdrawal. We are going to switch different medications and dosage to see which ones will work best for her."

I tried to absorb all of this information but I was still too tensed. Dr. Weisberger went on with her explanation, that Bella had been taking Clozaril, an antipsychotic drug for adult schizophrenics. She was taking this medication for six months and it was initially, effectively restraining her. I winced at the word "restraining" but I remained silent. Unfortunately, the doctor said, that wasn't the case now. She had been slipping for some time because of the drug's diminishing effect on her.

I waited a second then asked, "How did you revive her?"

She glanced at Dr. Santiago, who took over.

"Generally, antipsychotics are the first line of treatment to relieve symptoms of catatonic schizophrenia, but in the patient's case, the benzodiazepine injection is the best option to treat a withdrawal and resistant cases such as Ms. Swan's."

I let out another relieved sigh. I was glad that they didn't subject her to electroconvulsive therapy, and I said so. Bella had an extraordinary fear of the shock treatment.

"There was no need," he assured me. "Not at this time," he added a bit ominously.

Dr. Santiago explained that ECT, which was common in treating catatonic schizophrenia, was considered the last resort. It was only an option if symptoms were severe or if medications failed to relieve a catatonic episode.

My father fired his own questions at the two doctors and these were more medical queries, using their own physician's language as they discussed Bella's case and condition further.

As soon as there was a lull in the talks, I turned to Bella's primary and asked the one question I was most interested in, right at this moment.

"When can I see her?"

"She is being treated for pneumonia, Edward, visitations are disallowed until she is well."

That went straight to my gut and I exploded.

"What the fuck! She has pneumonia, too? As if what's happening to her isn't fucking enough? God!" I burst out. The last, single syllable ripped from my throat.

I stood up, trying to force my breathing to normalize. I planted the heels of my hands on the table and looked at my father.

For once, Carlisle didn't admonish me for my foul cursing. But god-damned-it-fucking-all-to-hell! Rage, which I had been containing since I got Bella back, poured forth like some desperate thing that had been locked up inside of me for too long.

And I wanted to laugh hysterically for here I was fucking cursing in front of three doctors, and I lost it not because Bella was in a hospital for one of the most serious mental disorders the brain could produce, but that I lost it because she had lung infection, which could turn fatal, to top it all off.

"It is a secondary complication, son," my father said, calm in the face of my outburst. "She had been missing for five days. That meant she was dehydrated, and she hasn't eaten in days. It has weakened her immune system."

"Edward, please, sit down," from Dr. Santiago.

I sat back down. "My apologies," I murmured. The doctors allowed me a few more seconds to compose myself.

"Dr. Santiago, when can I see her?" I repeated my earlier question.

"She is under careful care and monitoring, Edward. It is a viral pneumonia and we think she contacted it during hospital treatment. These things are highly infectious. We'll have to see. It's hard to tell how long pneumonia will last," he said.

This was no answer at all and I was about to argue when my father said, "Give it a few days, Edward. I'll be here to watch over her."

I was grateful for my father but still I worried. "Dad, with all these powerful drugs in her system, and then the pneumonia …" I trailed off. I couldn't continue. I glanced back down, my heart heavy.

"Son, look at me," my father said softly. "Bella has a reason, she has _someone_, to come back for. I know she will fight this."

"She has to," I whispered.

* * *

We were standing outside of the hospital, waiting for my car. I had it valet serviced because I didn't want to waste time earlier in looking for parking.

"Do you mind if you talk to Bella's mother, Dad? Tell her what the doctors said?"

My father had a few more minutes with me before he had to go up and check on Bella. I figured he could call Renee now.

"I have every intention of doing that," he said, his expression was grim.

I knew my father very well, and I could tell he was going to give Renee more than a piece of his mind. And which begged the question, where was she now?

My car arrived and I turned to him.

"Dad, I … I couldn't have coped with this without you, without any of you. I just want to say thank you," I said quietly.

"She's part of the family now, son. And we always take care of our own."

* * *

Two days later, the nurse who I had befriended sought me out in the lobby waiting room, and she had positive news.

"She's stable," she told me, smiling.

"Will I be allowed to visit?"

"Ask her doctor, but I'm sure it will be okay."

It took another three hours of waiting and restless pacing, when another nurse finally escorted me to Bella's private room.

My father was inside. When I came in, he gripped my shoulder for a moment and left. I realized that after five days, it was just me and Bella.

I felt my eyes sting at the sight of her.

She was prone on the narrow bed, still as death. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing was shallow but they had removed her oxygen mask. She was thin, so thin and her beautiful hair was listless.

Slowly, I reached out a hand to touch her pale skin. It was clammy. I found squares of cotton cloth at the foot of the bed. Gently, I ran the towel along her arms, wiping the dampness away. I used it to pat sweat on her face and neck.

I didn't know how long I stood there watching her still face. It could have been hours or just minutes. I didn't hear my father re-enter the room, and I quickly brushed moisture from my eyes and cheeks.

"She's on the mend, son," he said quietly.

I nodded, choked with suppressed emotions.

Wordlessly, my father handed his crisp, white handkerchief to me, over my shoulder, and I took it.

This time, I let the tears flow.

* * *

That night, Bella's Aunt Marge arrived at the hospital.

I think I knew who she was the moment she entered the lobby. I was standing outside, smoking my first stick in months. I haven't smoked maybe in a year and I thought I had quit. I was wrong.

I quickly crushed the cig and approached her.

Like Bella, Mrs. Margret Swan Duffin had brown hair but she was taller than her niece.

"Mrs. Duffin," I said quietly. I didn't want to startle her. She was waiting for the absent nightshift clerk at the information desk.

She turned around and there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. She knew who I was, too.

"Edward," she said. We stared at each other for a few seconds in shared sympathy and pain. And she who was formidable and very reserved, very slowly and never losing her poise, went to pieces before me.

I stepped closer and after a brief hesitation, I gathered her in for a tight hug. She wasn't loud, her sobbing was quiet. I led her to a chair and continued to hold her. I didn't know what I was saying to her, but I was hoping it would calm her enough to stop crying.

Finally, she did stop. She straightened up and gave me a wobbly smile. She snapped her purse open and took out several tissues and wiped at her tears. She cleared her throat.

"So, how is my niece?"

She opened her purse again and offered me Mentos. I took one roll.

There was something comforting about her, something solid and dependable.

"She's recovering from pneumonia."

There was something comforting about her reaction as well, which was a lot like mine.

"God, is that girl ever going to get a damned break!" And she cried again, but her tears were a source of comfort, too.

For the first time in five days, I felt my lips parting. It wasn't quite a smile yet, but it would do.


	45. Choices

By **Stephenie Meyer. **The three Twilight Saga movies, so far, have earned gross revenues of $1,792,138,873 as of the end of August. The cost of production for all three was only $155,000,000 (two Breaking Dawns is an assured $1.5 billion more, _at least_, in gross profits)

**Chapter45/Choices**

**Mercy Hospital, Day 10**

"Please wait here for Dr. Santiago," said the woman who introduced herself as Carmen, one of the social workers assigned to the psychiatric ward.

She led me to a small pristine white room with a big, and tightly closed windows. It was one of the private session rooms for patients temporarily isolated from the others.

I had passed the corridors and the common, larger, visiting area where most of the patients were receiving their visitors. I had expected to be led there but Carmen shook her head and without explanation, brought me here.

The room was sparcely furnitured, only a three-sitter sofa, a table and one plastic chair. There was a phone on the wall. When the door opened, I was standing by the window, facing the doorway.

Bella's attending psychiatrist, Dr. Santiago, entered the room.

I stiffened for I knew what he was going to say again. We have had this conversation many times and the last one was with Dr. Weisberger.

"Are you sure you want to see her this way, Edward?" she said, again detailing Bella's symptoms to me as if these would scare me off. "We've taken her off her medication. It is policy not to expose patients when they are off their meds."

"Please," I said, impatient. "I need to see her. It doesn't matter to me."

Finally, two days ago I signed a waiver and they scheduled this regulated visit.

Bella has been confined for 10 days. The last time I saw her was when I was allowed to visit her briefly in her room while she was recovering from pneumonia, the day her aunt arrived.

"Edward, sit down. This will be short," said Dr. Santiago, who came alone. I sat down on the sofa and he took the lone chair.

"As you are aware, Dr. Weisberger has expressed her apprehension about your visit today but we have discussed this thoroughly. We did agree, however, that it could prove beneficial for the patient to see you today."

"Again, I have to remind you," he went on. "We have discontinued her medication as part of our monitoring procedure on her, to re-determine her dosage use. She is as stable as she could be, considering we are encouraging her symptoms to leak out in the next days. The reason we have done this, as we explained to you last week, was because the drugs prescribed to her in the past was no longer effective."

I nodded, but I was getting impatient. We have threshed this all out several times and all I wanted now was to see Bella. He noted it, and he got up and lifted the receiver from the wall phone, giving instructions to bring her in the room.

"Edward, I'd be right outside. I will give you 15 minutes of privacy but after that I will have to be in here and observe her behavior. This will help our comprehensive psychiatric evaluation of the patient and to establish treatment as soon as possible."

I nodded again, my attention was on the door. In the next second Carmen opened it and she walked in, her arm around Bella's waist.

I stood up slowly, staring at her. She was staring right back at me, frowning.

She looked frail, her skin pasty and wax-like, almost as if drained of blood. I was immediately alarmed by her feeble appearance, but I checked my instinctive reaction to go to her and whisk her away from this sanitized place. The dark circles under her eyes, I was quick to note, were at least no longer as prominent or as visible as before.

Carmen guided her to the sofa facing the windows. When the door shut closed she sat up quite suddenly. My heart was pounding and my mouth had gone dry.

"Who is it?" she croaked. She folded one leg underneath her, her chin resting on a raised knee. She closed her eyes.

"It's only me, Bella," I said quietly. I desperately wanted to touch her but I was afraid to move, to approach her.

Bella's head snapped up at the sound of my voice. Her eyes widened and her breathing accelerated. She seemed to have become agitated.

"I know you. How could I not know you?" she said through clenched teeth.

I moved, but not enough to make her ill at ease. Slowly, I sat down on the chair facing her.

Bella's head bobbed slightly back and forth as if she was working it out inside her head, who I was to her.

"I dream of you," she whispered, still staring at me. Her hands were shaking.

"Please, Bella," I urged. "Who am I?"

"Don't be sad." And then she smiled and the way it transformed her face, still so innocent-looking to me, was the saddest thing I had ever seen.

Fuck, god, was it too late? Had I lost her? She didn't even recognized me.

"Bella …"

"You're so heartbreakingly beautiful," she mumbled, her voice strained but she was still smiling at me.

I stared at her for a moment, then said, "It's Edward ... my name is Edward, Bella."

"Do you know _what_ I am now?" she whispered. She looked over her shoulder, and shuddered. "I'm no longer sedated," she said louder. "Do you know, know ... know who those ... p-people? Sedated people? They're the perfect girls."

"What are they doing to you?" I asked softly.

"What? What? This is me!" She pursed her lips. "This is me when I'm not choking on those pills! Don't you like who I am? Am I too awkward and twitchy for you?"

"Don't be angry -"

"_I'm not!_" she said, and she was pleased with how positively happy she sounded. I could feel the back of my neck starting to sweat.

She straightened up her pose, and leaned back on the back of the sofa. She was looking at the window now, unblinking. Her yellow shirt was stretched across her chest and she was absently playing with the ribbon of her white drawstring cottons. She was barefoot.

"Stop speaking in that soft, _kind_ voice," she snapped. "Yell at me! I'm not fragile. I'm just nobody, a twisted nobody."

I managed not to grimace, letting her speak uninterrupted. She blinked in confusion, and possibly distress.

"Stop being perfect! You make …Me. Hate. Myself!" she yelled, her chest heaving, and I wondered if I should get Dr. Santiago.

"You think it's easy?" she murmured and in a blink, she was calm again. She suddenly leaned forward and took one of my hands in both of hers. I forced myself to be still.

She traced the hidden nerve and veins on the back of my hand then she slowly ran her own finger to the four digits, caressing the skin, stopping on my little finger. She ignored the thumb.

She was mumbling under her breath, too low for me to hear. She was making sounds at the back of her throat and it made my spine tingle in warning. For a moment she was silent, immobile, gripping my hand. Her brow furrowed then she just shook her head, looking over her shoulder and glaring at the wall.

After several minutes of me sitting motionless and her inspecting my hand minutely, she looked up at me and her eyes seem to clear, gain some focus. Her mouth fell open, and she kept her unblinking eyes on me.

"Why are you here?" she said finally. There was surprise and amazement in her voice.

"Bella -"

"Edward." She said my name slowly and there was recognition in her eyes and voice. She continued to stare at me until her cheeks began to color with pink. Her eyes dropped to my mouth, and she captured her lower lip between her teeth. She was breathing through her nose.

"Why don't you just leave m-me?" She dropped my hand and cringed back against the back of the sofa.

"It's hard," she whispered. I noted that she has started to breathe erratically and what little color that earlier had splashed her skin has now receded. "It's _so_ _hard_ to be your B-Bella, I can't … I couldn't … never live up to it," she gasped.

I stood up and took a step towards her. She screamed and I froze. The door opened and Dr. Santiago hurriedly strolled in. I held up a hand and shook my head at him. In the corner of my eye, I saw him bring another plastic chair in the room and he settled himself in a corner, as unobtrusively as he could.

Bella had closed her eyes and she seemed unaware that there was a third person in the room. She was rocking her curled up body, back and forth. Her eyes remained shut and she never spoke again. Numbed, I let Carmen lead me out of the silent room.

* * *

My mother told me to accept this and to move on, to continue with my life. But how could I?

She had been trying to corner me for days. I could see determination in her eyes whenever she would start "her talk." The times when she did manage to pin me to a place long enough to lecture me, she told me firmly that I had to try to deal with reality, that Bella could be hospitalized for a long time.

"You can't lurk around hospitals, waiting for her until she gets well, Edward," she said, almost yelling at me.

I knew what to tell her to appease her. I promised her I would come home more often.

I was in the hospital every day. I wasn't allowed to see Bella again but it didn't matter. I was there and it was enough. At night when I felt I would go mad if I couldn't see her face, I would stay hours outside of her window – or my approximation of her window since she never looked out.

She was off her meds for five more days. I tried to beg another visit with her, but this time my father sided with her doctors. I could not see her like this, he said. And I was defeated.

* * *

Aunt Marge stayed in Chicago for two weeks. She was allowed to see Bella only once and even that one instance, she had to bully and argue her way around her doctors.

I was impressed and awed by her determination that I swore to myself to never cross this woman.

Esme had called her, she said, that was why she came.

"I like your mother, Edward. She told me to fly my ass over here and I did. The only other person, who could command me as direct as that, is dead." This was her husband, who passed away five years ago. She admitted to being terribly lonely after Mr. Duffin died, so when Renee called her three years ago about bringing Bella over to London, she had agreed at once.

Aunt Marge gave me valuable insights into Bella's old life, and in particular about the mental illness that had grieved and oppressed the Swan family for generations.

"You already know it started with my mother?" At my nod, she continued, "Charlie had it worse. He was never treated my mother was in denial that there was something wrong, until it was too late, for her and for my brother."

I hesitated but I had to point it out. "You escaped it … this thing."

"I wouldn't call it that," she said quietly. "I lived with my mother and brother for many years. I saw how they suffered and witnessed their deterioration. So … no, I didn't 'escape' it."

"You survived it," I said quietly.

"Bella will survive this, too," she vowed.

"Why is Renee not here, Mrs. Duffin?" I had asked her two days before she left. We had not talked about Bella's mother. I could sense her unwillingness to discuss Renee.

She sighed. "I, too, judged her once. Who wouldn't?" she said. "But Bella had forgotten what she saw that day, when Charlie died, and her mother didn't, and couldn't. Give her a chance to explain herself."

"Do you really think that _this_ ... her absence, has an acceptable explanation? Beside the obvious?" I snorted.

"Two sides in every coin, my dear boy."

"And I say she took a gamble. And lost," I muttered.

That day though, she told me the one thing that made it all possible, an immediate future for Bella and I. It made the next days, weeks, and months easier to get through. She said Renee had given her legal guardianship and even though Bella would be 19 soon, Aunt Marge had sole legal custody over her.

"You want to take care of my niece." It was a statement not a question. I nodded. She leaned toward me and smiled. "I will help you. Renee gave up her parental rights when she was 16." It was the reason why Bella migrated to England.

* * *

**September 13, Day 30**

It was her birthday today.

Her condition has not worsened, but it hadn't improved either. The upside was that she was no longer angry or silent. Her doctors have started her on a new medication treatment.

Dr. Santiago had explained that with two antipsychotic drugs being tested on her now, there was good evidence that both would improve her symptoms and behavior disturbance. The fact that she was not yet "normal" was due mainly to the low dosage of her medications and the constant switching of the two drugs. There were no marked adverse effects, such as increased risk of behavioral symptoms, her doctor said. Still, he assured me that they were prepared to implement a "discontinuation strategy" when behavioral disturbances become uncontrollable.

For eight days straight, I had been seeing her every afternoon, from 3pm to 5pm. I see her in the large visiting area. There was one corner that she liked, a lone armchair facing a window, and I would pull up a chair and sit close to her.

Sometimes she would speak. Briefly. Sometimes she would just stare outside. Her view was the side park and garden of the hospital. I had thought that during these days, when she was silent and staring fixedly at the window, she was unaware of my presence. But one time, I raised my arm to wave at Carmen, who had become quite friendly to me, and the slight movement of my arm drew Bella's attention.

The next time, I experimented by standing up suddenly. Almost at the same moment, she stood up too, looking at me. She didn't say anything but she was waiting for what I would do next. I slowly sat down and she too sat down, imitating my stance.

The days when she was talking was both good and bad. What she was saying sometimes scared the fuck out of me.

Bella would ramble about lakes, and nymphs, about rains and the rainbow. She told me about a hilltop with blue grass and trees, where the nymphs have a hidden spring that nobody knew about. It was a secret place, she whispered, that only she was aware of. It was a wall of water and when she passed through it, she would enter the nymphs' watery, magical world.

She wasn't always pliant and dreamy. There were times when she would exhibit extreme paranoia and would yell at someone only she could see.

She told me that one of the patients, the one who was always watching her, was a sea witch with snake-like seaweeds for hair. She had teeth sharper than a shark and a tail as deadly as a stingray, she warned me. She would glare ferociously at this woman and hiss at her when she came close to our corner.

Today as soon as she saw me, Bella cautioned me not to take a drink from her for I would drown and I would die. She cried when she said these things to me. When I die, she sobbed, I would not be immortal like her. I would simply be nothing, part of the fog.

She stopped crying when I told her today was her special day. She was quiet for a long time.

"Do you w-want it?" she asked me softly, shyly, her hand in front of me. She whispered a word, which was probably not meant for me, and somehow she let me know she knew it was something to do about her birth.

She slowly opened her palm and showed me a non-existent cake, one made of sea shells, she said eagerly. I wasn't sure if I should be encouraging her in this. I didn't want to risk a negative reaction if I told her I see nothing. I saw her mouth wobble and she looked as if she was about to cry again. So I just shrugged and pretended to take the "cake" from her hand.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," I whispered. I didn't kiss her. She wasn't allowing me to touch her yet. I waited for her to look directly at me and when she did, I said softly, "I know you, Bella. Every time I touch you, every time I wake up with you beside me, I _know_ you."

She nodded slowly, even though I knew she couldn't truly understand my words.

* * *

My mother was waiting for me outside of the hospital. She had dispatched my car by way of Alice who apparently pilfered an extra key to my Volvo.

Esme informed me that we had a dinner date this night. I smiled at her and gamely jumped inside her Beemer.

She took me to my favorite restaurant, ordered my favorite food and drink, and when the meal was consumed, surprised me with my favorite dessert which I knew wasn't even on the menu.

"Okay let's here it, Mom," I said, crossing my arms. There was a reason why she had reserved the most isolated spot in the garden restaurant.

"I want you to go to college," she said without preamble.

It was rude but I scowled, thinking she should know better than to bring this up now, not with Bella still in the hospital.

My mother was prepared to argue and plead her case.

"I don't care where you go – be it to Dartmouth or Bienen. Honey, please, just go to school. Don't be consumed by Bella's condition."

"Stop," I hissed.

"No. You will listen to me, Edward," she said. Her eyes, her tone, and stance had taken on the qualities of pure steel.

I could feel myself resisting her, trying to shut down. I felt restless, trapped, and it took all my control to remain seated. I might be a bastard, but I wouldn't disrespect my mother by ditching her in a public place. And I wanted to laugh because this was probably why she chose to have this talk outside of the house, so I couldn't walk out on her.

"Edward," she began. "As a mother, I have to tell you that this is a nightmare to see you like this. I don't want my son to spend his life with someone who was constantly unstable. Honey, she's been taking powerful drugs for most of her life. These drugs - they have changed her. You could never really know who she is. You have to know that. You have to accept that."

I shrugged one shoulder insolently.

"I'd rather you have someone more _here_ for you, someone who will take care of you. I realize I am being unfair but you are my _son_," she said in a defiant tone.

"We have given all of you your space early on. It took me a long time to convince your father that this was the way to raise you, and your brother and sister. You have to grow up knowing we trust you. And you all have surpassed all our expectations," she said.

My mother paused, taking out a tissue to wipe at the corner of her eye. I hadn't even noticed that she was crying, so focused I was on her face and her words. "But I want you to know that you staying with your Bella, would be to me – one of the best sides to you, one I am so very proud of. Where are you getting your strength? Your resolve? It couldn't have been easy."

One would think I have grown used to this, but every time my mother talked to me, she took me by surprise. I could feel myself beginning to change, and my heart to beat faster. To my horror and shame, I felt moisture on my own cheeks.

"I'm not sure who is more disturbed – you or her," said my mother, smiling a little. "It's probably you, boy, because you're my son after all."

She reached out a hand and gently wiped the tears from my face. "I tell myself always, that I will let you live your life, as you want it lived. And if you're not happy, then I will do whatever I can to make you happy, but I can't help but chart my imagined life for you."

She looked at me for a long moment.

"Every time you call me Mom, I get a jolt of recognition," she said with fresh tears. "I look at you, and I ask myself – what did I do to deserve you? I keep thinking that I will lose you because I'm not worthy to be your mother. When I quit my job so I could look after all of you better – my friends thought I had lost my sense of identity. Was it wrong to love being your Mom so much? I realize though that I am still an unconventional parent, allowing all of you your freedom early on."

"But by doing that," she emphasized, "I'm making sure that we will have a relationship where 30 years from now – if I'm still here – you will still come to me and share your life with me. That is all I want, Edward."

She held out her hand towards me, palm facing up. It was a gesture of apology, compromise, and forgiveness. Slowly, I uncrossed my arms and gripped her hand, hard.

"And I know," she whispered, "that Bella will be part of your life, and I want to be part of that, too. But Edward, honey, you must continue. She wouldn't want you to put your life on hold because of her. You're so young! Please ... I beg you. Think of yourself. Bella will not begrudge you of that. She loves you. She'd want you to move on. You are strong, you are wise, and we love you."

I took a deep breath and I felt the last of my resistance fade.

I got up and walked over to her side, enveloping her tight in my arms. "I love you, Mom." I gave her an appreciative peck on her cheek. She was fairly insufferable but it was fair to give her credit where credit was due.

* * *

I had to do two things.

One, I had to make sure that the one person who could set back, even damage Bella's recovery would never hurt her again.

And two, I had to move on now. For Bella.


	46. My Bella

**Stephenie Meyer's** Twilight. As of the end of the first quarter this year, the 4-book series have sold 100 million copies. Stephenie says that the books are centered around Bella's choice to choose her life on her own.

**Chapter46/My Bella**

**Mercy Hospital, Day 65**

"Edward!"

She hurried over to me as soon as I entered the psychiatric ward's lobby. I looked up at the giant clock on the wall. 5:33pm. I was fucking late.

"Carmen, can I still go in? I drove straight from Evanston and fuck the traffic -" I stopped talking, giving her a pleading, sheepish, slightly desperate look. "Sorry, but let me see her."

She smiled apologetically to me. "I'm really sorry, Edward, doors' already closed."

I bit off another crude word before it left my mouth. I should have taken the shuttle or bus but the public transportation wasn't flexible enough for me. And the fucking reason I was in Evanston in the first place was because I was arranging cross-campus schedules so I could take some of the classes in Chicago NU.

"Come on, Carmen." I tried cajoling, flashing my crooked smile at her and wagging my bushy eyebrows in what I hoped was some sort of a flirtation move. I knew (and I couldn't help but notice really) that she has a crush on me. And also, I liked her and it was easy to joke around with her. She was, quite honestly, one of the friendliest persons I know.

She blushed but still shook her head. "You're like Robert Pattinson in the flesh, Edward … but no. Sorry."

"Did she ask for me?"

"Of course she did." She smiled, patting my arm consolingly. "Your mother and sister were here, you just missed them."

I sighed and returned her smile. "Thanks anyway, Carmen. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Be early, okay? The girls were looking for you," she teased. She was trying, I realized, to cheer me up. She always mocked me in a sisterly kind of way, about some of the nurses and social workers in her department who were more than friendly with me sometimes. I never noticed their attention, except Carmen's, and she was only too pleased to tell me about my "fans".

* * *

It was a week after Bella's birthday when (and I was cringing inwardly while purchasing the unit) I bought a 76-key ultraportable digital piano. I wasn't used to playing an electric piano but then I haven't played on a Steinway grand for years.

During the first few days of my impromptu concert playing for my Bella, I brought headphones for her and for myself because while the piano wasn't forbidden in the visitors' hall, I didn't want to disturb the other visitors. There were two TV sets mounted on opposite walls, volumes at full blast all the time.

One day, Carmen and another social worker asked me to let them listen while I play for Bella. I had been playing for them since then, and when I play, the TVs were off.

For my girl, I played classical, jazz and popular rock. I was surprised I still remembered the musical notations. There were two pieces she loved the most and sometimes I would only play these two again and again, Debussy's Claire de Lune and Silent Night. The latter, although a Christmas song, was like a lullaby for her and it would always calmed her when I played it.

There was another lullaby I wanted to play for her, this one I composed myself. But it wasn't yet refined and I didn't think it was the right time to play it for her. So I kept it to myself, for now.

During days when she wasn't in the mood for the piano, I would sing to her, quietly, just for her ears. She liked the Beatles' Hey Jude and Novocaine by Eels.

Every night though when I was home, I did a lot of improvisations using a program I recently bought for my laptop. I didn't set out to compose music for her, it just happened.

It was difficult, especially at nights, not to worry about her. "Worry" was an understatement. I felt _plagued_ more than being troubled. The only way to deal with it sometimes was to continue my research about her symptoms and to know more and be better prepared. My mother helped. She was a bulwark, my shield against gut-wrenching doubts and guilt.

I've had a lot to think about in the last two months, about us, and the future. Translating to harmonic language what I feel for her and for us, was just one of the coping mechanisms for me. In school, I sometimes play it on the grand but at home, I turned to my guitar. Music was soothing and effortless, like renewing ties with an old friend that never really went away.

I had chosen a flexible degree program for music composition and popular musicology – both easy majors for me. My faculty adviser at Bienen was trying to convince me to get a double major and I might. I could enroll in the two-degree program since it was an opportunity to spend more time in the Chicago campus.

Schedules were tight but I was managing, I think. So long as I was free during Bella's visiting hours, then it was good. No complaints. Not even from my father, who just grinned and with admirable stoicism, accepted my decision to go to music college instead of Dartmouth's medical school.

* * *

My days had taken on a comfortable routine. I had one class in the morning and the rest after 6pm. I couldn't avoid the morning class but my professor was kind of laid-back and so long as we communicate constantly on the internet, he was fine with missed attendances.

When I was running late - and these were not often maybe twice or thrice - I'd call ahead and send any member of my family or Jasper who happened to be free, to the hospital. I simply hated the thought that no one would be there to greet Bella come 3pm.

She was getting better. It wasn't what the doctors were telling me though, but I wanted to think that she was. She would still talk about her other world but not as recurrently and as spasmodically as before, during her first month.

Bella was lucid for brief periods. The longest was 15 minutes and she would remember things. She knew my name but not who I was to her. She saw me as her friend who was there everyday for two hours.

Her appearance was the same. She had lost a lot of weight but she wasn't gaunt-looking, just tired. And her eyes – her eyes were bronze-golden in color, lighter than usual. I had asked her doctors about this but they couldn't say why. It reminded me of the time, back in the house, when she was in the tub and I witnessed her first symptoms. Her eyes were a similar color then.

"She talks about you," said Carmen. She and I had developed this routine. After every visit, she would walk me to the lobby and she would tell me about Bella, what she did and what she's said, when I wasn't around.

"You think she's starting to remember me?"

"Maybe," she said. "I've seen all kinds of patients here, Edward, and your Bella is something different. She seemed afraid to remember who you are."

This was a frequent topic of discussion between her doctors and me, too. They were puzzled about Bella's behavior. There were times when she seemed stable. She was still quiet but her eyes were observant. And when Dr. Santiago was ready to declare her dosage the correct one, she would display symptoms that would negate all theories.

My mother had her own theory on why Bella's condition wasn't stabilizing on antipsychotic medication.

"Is she afraid to get well, Mom?"

"Either that or she doesn't think she should."

"That's just -" Fucked up. "I can't fight this and fight her, too."

"It's a mental illness, Edward. When a patient is pressured or criticized, that's not conducive to getting well."

"She's not even _here_ yet, Mom. She still doesn't recognize me or anyone."

"Honey, you're helping her. Believe me, I know." She touched my arm and gave me her don't-you-dare-contradict-me stare. "You just continue to let her know that you love her, and then _will_ her to come back to you, to us."

* * *

**Day 77**

I was smiling when I left visitors' hall. Bella laughed today. I deliberately changed the lyrics to Novocaine and sang it really slow and sexy to her, breathy style. And she loved it.

I lugged my portable keyboard and just turned from waving goodbye to Carmen and her friends, when I saw her.

My face went cold.

"Visiting hours is over," I said, my voice sounding harsh.

"I wanted to talk to you," said Renee.

I really didn't care what she wanted but she was still her mother. I indicated the lobby cafeteria and she walked ahead of me.

Neither of us ordered anything.

"How is she?"

"Stabilizing," I said.

"When will they release her?"

"When she's declared stabilized."

"Don't be cryptic with me, please, Edward. I'm not the bad guy here." She had the audacity to act hurt in front of me.

I just stared at her and waited. And then she began to talk.

In a halting voice, Renee confessed that for years since Charlie died, she had denied to herself what was happening to Bella. She saw the symptoms and the signs but she just couldn't accept that it was happening again.

"I couldn't … just couldn't acknowledge my daughter's behavioral problems and I certainly couldn't admit to myself that she was mentally ill," she said brokenly.

So one fucked day, she tried to escape it all by overdosing on anti-depressants. "When they revived me, Marge was there with signed documents. She had Bella confined."

"You tried to kill yourself?" I glared at her and I couldn't quite hide my disgust. "You did it while your daughter - your _nine-_year old daughter was in the same house?"

"It was an accident!"

I snorted in disdain and barked a short laugh, glad it sounded really offensive. "Sure it was and you were never to blame, too, right?"

"You don't know what it's like for me," she said stiffly. "For Bella!"

"That came out as an afterthought to me, Renee."

"I – I couldn't live with her," she whispered. "She always asks me about Charlie. I didn't want ever to talk about him, but she kept asking and asking, even in her sleep."

I still stared at her, letting her rant. "When she was a child, she'd sleepwalk did you know that? She'd wake me up and she'd be screaming for her father! I only wanted to f-forget what Charlie d-did." She stopped talking and took a deep breath. "But Bella never lets me forget it! I loved him! He was my life! And he cheated me of that life." She looked away. "He destroyed me."

"And _my_ Bella?"

She looked up at me, straight in the eye. "I have no more love left for his daughter. It was him who wanted to have a child. He could have told me. He could have said something about his family and this … this sickness that they have! I would have refused. I would never have allowed myself to conceive."

I had already suspected that Renee regretted the having of Bella but I was damned if I would allow her to say it to my face as if it was enough of an excuse to treat her own daughter like a fucking age-old social stigma of a leper.

"You've already given her up," I bit out, still striving to remain composed. "Just leave her to me."

"You think you're that strong?" she shot back. "You don't know yet what it's like to love someone with schizophrenia. Bella will _never_ be fully cured, Edward. Don't you get it yet?" she hissed. "She will be dependent on powerful drugs for the rest of her life and if you - and god help you if you do - have a child with her there is a big possibility that the mental illness will be passed on and this will be repeated again."

I had never, in my entire short life, ever had a desire or reason to physically injure a woman out of spite or plain cruelty. But god, it was taking a lot of my control not to cause bodily harm to this woman.

"If there is one thing I've learned since you're arrival," I said, purposely using a bland, bored voice. "Is that you're a worthless mom."

She abruptly stood up and I was sure if she was holding a glass of water she would hurl it to my face and probably break the glass on my head, too.

"I'm sorry, Renee," I said, meaning it. Or at least meaning it enough for Bella's sake.

"You're going to leave her too!"

"I would never abandon her like you did," I retorted.

"No one is strong enough for this, Edward. No one! You will see!"

I remained seated. "She's with me now and you should go. Go and live your life as if you never had a daughter."

She regarded me for a few seconds more, her face frozen. She looked stunned and open mouthed even. She turned abruptly and headed for the door, and hopefully, out of Bella's life.

* * *

I came home after my morning class and was surprised to find it quiet and empty. But then I wasn't alone for long.

"Oh, good, you're here," said Tanya, walking through the front door and closing it quickly.

Surprisingly, she has become a close friend since Bella was hospitalized. Several times in the past months, I had stumbled on her pacing the lobby hospital, waiting for me.

She, with my sister and Jasper, would insist I join them some nights to go clubbing, and since I had no where else to go, I would just shrug and went along with them. These were long evenings when Tanya and I would talk, mostly about Bella.

"Just back from school?" she asked, following me to the kitchen.

"Yeah, how about you?"

"Yeah, Booth."

I placed cold lasagna slices in two plates and shoved both in the microwave oven.

"Why don't you choose a movie while I get these," I said, slicing garlic and herb bread, not looking at her. I was thinking of the day Bella made breakfast for us and I smiled.

"In your room?"

"What?" I said absently, opening the fridge.

"Sure, uhm, I'll go to … the lounge room."

I brought the food and drinks and we settled down to watch DVD. She chose Shrek the Third and I grinned at her.

"This was Bella's favorite Shrek."

"Oh … right."

Halfway through the movie, Tanya got up and gathered the dirty plates. She returned minutes later from the kitchen. She handed me a Snickers bar.

"Now who was stocking up on these?" she accused, suspicious, and then she laughed.

"Bella did," I said.

She was suddenly quiet. "You always do that and you don't even notice," she said at last. I heard her sigh. She lazily slumped on the sofa beside me, her head resting on my shoulder.

"Do what?"

"Bella this and Bella that."

I bent my head slightly so we were face to face. "She _is_ my Bella. What's wrong with that?"

Instead of replying to my question, she said, "Remember what I told you before? That there's remoteness and coldness in you?"

"Yes?"

"I was wrong."

"And?"

"I guess I never really understood you until ... until I saw you with her."

My hand tightened around the unopened Snickers bar. I had confided a lot in Tanya these past weeks. I'd already deduced that she, like so many people, were clueless of who I really was. To them, I was just a 19-year old brooding jackass who was too lazy, and yes comfortable, to do anything worthwhile.

"You know, Edward, guess what?" She didn't bother to look up, didn't want to move from her curled up position.

"You tell me."

"I'm not as bitchy as you think."

I took her hand and squeezed.

"I know."

With a tenderness that two months ago, I would have thought out of place, she reached out a hand and gently patted my cheek.

"You needed a friend." She smiled, and I smiled back at her. "And -" She stopped and closed her eyes.

The next words she said were not ones I was expecting. She took a deep breath and blurted out, "I love you, Edward."

I tried to smile and arrange my shocked face into some semblance of bland.

The silence lasted for more than a minute. She looked up at me, blinking fast.

I sighed. "You're not going to cry, are you?"

"Maybe," she sniffed.

"I have great affection for you, too, as my friend."

"You don't think you could maybe love me more, like later?"

I touched her cheek gingerly.

"Bella's my life. You know that."

She nodded but I could see my words made her sad. I gently held her head as I stood up. I gazed down at her and she looked like she was about to cry. I walked and stood in the middle of the room for a moment, trying to figure out what I ought to do next.

"Tanya, I don't want to hurt you."

She nodded again but she avoided my eyes.

"Look at me," I said. She just shook her head. "Tanya, I wish I could love you. I wish I could rip her from my heart and live a life without her. I wish -"

"Do you wish you've never met her?"

"No," I said at once. "Never that."

She finally looked at me and her smile was reminiscent of the old Tanya the she-panther.

"Never ever?" she asked quietly.

I shrugged helplessly, returning her smile.

* * *

**Day 94**

After three months, Bella was showing signs of improvement. Her doctors had kept her on the same medication for 30 days and her condition has begun to stabilize.

Because she was responding better to her treatment, Dr. Weisberger's weekly psychotherapy sessions were now three times a week.

When I entered the visitors' area, my eyes went straight to her corner and found it empty. I looked around, searching. The hall was one big room and not all of the patients were there.

I heard a small, tentative sound behind me. I quickly turned around and there she was, smiling sweetly up at me, her mouth twitching. She tried to stifle her laugh but a snort came through.

"What's that you're hiding from me, my Bella?" I said, mock grabbing at her back. She shook her head and glared at me, but her eyes were glowing.

"I have a surprise for you," she said softly, shyly. She pointed me to her chair, using her chin. I dutifully walked over to her corner and pulled up a chair. I sat down.

Beaming, she presented me with her surprise and for a few seconds, I just blinked at it.

"I made it!" she enthused, shoving the mushy crust in my frozen hands.

A sandwich, I thought dazedly. She … Bella made me a sandwich. I slowly looked up at her, my mouth open.

She frowned at me, tilting her head to the side, regarding me with confusion.

"W-why are you crying, Edward?"

I gripped the flat bread too hard until wheat crumbs fell, and the sides dripped with sticky jam filling.

"Don't you like peanut butter and jelly?" she asked anxiously.

"Uhh -" My voice was trembling. I cleared my throat, brushing a free hand to my wet face. "Yeah, I do. Of course I like it."

She flushed. She raised her hand as if to touch my face then she stopped. Her cheeks turned a deeper pink as she looked down at her hands. "I made it for you," she mumbled.

I wanted to hug her to me and kiss her and take her home and never let her go again, but she stepped back and skipped around me.

"Where's your piano?"

I didn't bring the portable keyboard today. I had my guitar instead. She just looked at it, nodded, and sat on her chair.

I stared at my sandwich - two slices of baked dough made of flour, water and yeast - and I felt my heart soar and my mouth move in an exultant, gleeful smile.

"Sing to me," she said sweetly, and at this moment, I would have given her the world plus maybe four more planets in the solar system, not to mention the sun, moon and stars, if she had asked me for them.

I put away my precious sandwich, carefully, as if I was handling a religious relic, and started plucking the strings of my guitar. I sang her Beatles song for her.

In the middle of the song, Bella did something that totally stopped the beating of my heart. I didn't notice it at first, the movement was light as air. But when I looked up, her hand was hovering near my hand gripping the neck of the guitar. I swallowed, watching her face closely. My fingers halted their playing.

She looked at me and smiled. And to my complete amazement, she touched my hand, briefly, fleetingly, and before I could move another muscle, she drew her hand away.

"I missed you," she whispered.

It knocked the wind out of me and I just stopped and stared at her for a long moment, my hand tingling. It was the first time that she had touched me since she regained consciousness, or what passed for cognizant consciousness as she still didn't remember her old life.

"I missed you," she repeated, a secretive smile on her beautiful mouth. I wanted to drop on my knees and cry out and tell her I would die without her.

"I love you," I breathed.

She only nodded at me, biting her bottom lip. I saw an indefinable flicker of emotion in her eyes and I thought it was recognition, then she blinked in sudden bewilderment and it was gone, whatever it was.

"It will be alright," I said quietly.

And it was, I realized. It actually was.

* * *

*****a/n**

Just two more chapters and then an epilogue :) The next chapter is the only chapter (current story timeline) in Bella's POV.

Thank you for reading, for putting this story on your favorites/alerts list, and for always leaving a review/comment.


	47. Little fears

**Stephenie Meyer's** Twilight

**a/n:** This chapter is in Bella's POV. The extended texts in italics are Bella's dream and memory, sometimes a mixture of both.

**Chapter47/Little fears**

Some days I remembered him as if I had just met him, that day, on the plane.

Some days only his face was familiar.

It was the green eyes. His clear, springtime, bright green eyes that I would recall most for I knew his gaze. It was kind, calming and it would always give me a sense of quietude. Not the silence of nothing, of immobility and blankness, but his was a healing presence.

Today I remembered him. And he meant more to me than my own life.

* * *

I was waiting for him. I wanted to see him as soon as possible before I … before I lose it again, before I forget my dream.

Before I forget that I was real and awake.

I wasn't even sure … was it a dream? Or was it a waking reality? Did it happen?

_I closed my eyes as I walked, my bag rolling behind me. The tunnel was small and it was making me dizzy. _

I opened my eyes abruptly, expecting to see the passageway to the plane.

A passing nurse looked at me sharply and I closed my eyes again, in dismissal.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I didn't remember how I got here but I was lucid enough to realize now that I was running away from my family. Again.

Aunt Marge would be so disappointed in me. Would she get mad? I had never seen her mad, she was always stoic around me. She had to be. I was the crazy relative she was burdened with.

_I had been living in London with my aunt for the past two years. My mother –_

_I stumbled and shook my head at my clumsiness. Thoughts of my mother always made me feel weak and panicky._

_No! I was not going to think of Mom. Not now … not ever! I breathed through my nose and my heart pulse sped faster. I let out jerky sighs and my mouth went dry._

_I clutched my holdall and I stopped walking abruptly. A body bumped into me from behind and I screamed. People ahead of me turned their heads curiously but no one stopped, no one cared enough to offer assistance. _

"_You're blocking my way!" A woman snapped, impatient and annoyed. _

_I quickly stepped aside and not looking at her, I dropped to my knees and opened my bag. Frantic, I rummaged inside, scattering bits of things around. My hand found what I was looking for and I breathed a sigh of relief. I opened one of the bottles and popped two pills. Slowly, my breathing calmed and I felt lightheaded, but in a good way._

_I was about to close the zipper of my bag when my fingers brushed worn leather. It was my journal – the same one I had since I was 14 years old. I took it out and turned to the first page where I had written the address of where I knew I was going: Williams Street, Boston. _

_I felt a tear roll down my cheek. _

"Bella, are you okay?"

I opened my eyes to see the friendly dark-haired woman standing before me, her expression was anxious.

I only looked at her, silent, and then behind her to see if he has arrived.

"It's not yet time, Bella. It's only one o' clock." She raised her hand as if she would pat my shoulder in comfort and I drew back. She paled and retreated. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to … I wasn't …"

I sighed, nodded, and closed my eyes again.

* * *

Williams Street. It was home. The only home I ever knew.

_I didn't know how long I sat there and I didn't notice the other passengers walking by me. I stayed where I was until a cabin crew approached me and offered to help me up._

_I didn't remember talking to him but I was aboard the plane, fastened to my seat by the tiny window. The attendant must have helped me. I hoped I thanked him for his trouble._

_I looked at my hands and they were empty. I opened my mouth to ask a passing crew member where my bag was, but I changed my mind. I shouldn't draw attention to myself, I thought. _

_A yawn escaped me before I could stop myself. I blinked sleepily and slumped against my seat, closing my eyes. I was so tired … so tired. _

_If only I could dream happy dreams again. If only I could really go home again. I would sleep and sleep and never wake up._

"Bella."

I jerked awake and froze.

I stared forward fixedly. All I could see was white and blue.

I had been dreaming.

"Bella?"

I hadn't dreamed of him for so long.

It was him, wasn't it?

I felt the familiar soothing tingles in my right open palm. It was a gentle, waveless feeling, a general serenity. Inwardly, I smiled. I would be alright. He was back.

I felt the ground underneath me move and then there was only heaviness, the same thickness of air I feel when I wandered inside a fog by the lake.

I opened my mouth to take in more air, breathing it in sharply.

There was no prickling pain in my hand anymore, like that day when I saw my father. When I touched him, lying flat and broken on the bedroom floor, bleeding and destroyed.

My hand was warm and I felt calm, peaceful.

The tall man who always visits me, was sympathetic and I was comforted.

I began to be aware of other things. I heard breathing other than mine. Slowly, I turned my head and I latched on to green, a piercing green-grass color.

Yes, I thought, uplifted. It would be alright now.

Slowly, my eyes roamed his face and I was glad he had a strong face.

I smiled at him.

"What's it going to be, sweetheart? The bugs' song or the snakes'?"

I giggled. "Beatles are not beetles."

"Oh? And are eels sea snakes?"

"No, eels are fish."

"You're very smart, aren't you?"

I beamed at him.

"So …" he said casually, his fingers lightly playing the keys. "What's my name?"

My smile froze.

His name?

I felt a throbbing in my head.

I felt the center of my closed fist stinging with a familiar pain.

_Not yet._

I leaned closer and whispered, "play the bugs' song."

* * *

The black-haired woman was always talking about someone named Edward. The doctors, too.

I hear that name all the time. Edward.

I couldn't recall … things. I dreamed a lot but I kept quiet. I knew many things when I wake up. That was when he was familiar and I would remember a little.

I observed him first, finding what was familiar and what was new. Everything seemed to be new.

And then one time, there was a girl with blonde hair who came to see me. She talked about Edward, too.

"Do you remember me, Bella?"

They always asked me that.

"My name is Tanya."

It was a different room and it was nighttime. I frowned at this for _he_ always sees me in the afternoon.

I looked nervously around, looking for … Carmen? She was the dark-haired woman who sometimes would call me _hermanita_.

"Carmen?"

"No, Bella, my name is Tanya."

"Where's Carmen?"

Her blue eyes narrowed and I shrank back. I didn't want anyone to be angry with me, like my mo -

"If you have something to say to her, Ms. Sheaffer, say it now." This was from a male voice. I didn't know where he was, I was starting to see black.

"Alright, I really appreciate this, doc. I wanted to see her alone but Edward is always here and this was the only way. Can I be alone with her, please?"

"Ten minutes." A door opened, closed, and then silence.

"Would you like to sit down, Bella?"

There was one big table and several chairs. The woman, Tanya, sat down in one and I took the chair farthest from her. I sat with my knees raised, close to my chest. I bent my head, not looking at her.

Don't let her be mad at me, don't let her be mad at me ...

Who was she?

Where's Carmen?

"I know you don't remember me," the woman muttered. "But I need to say this to you …"

I closed my eyes, breathing slowly through my nose.

"Bella, I love him and I'll do anything to make him happy."

She shifted and moved her chair closer to mine. I stiffened and straightened up.

"Bella, please … let him go."

Let _him_ go?

I opened my eyes and stared at her, unblinking.

I won't do that.

"Please, Bella. I need him. Tell Edward to leave you now. He's suffered enough, Bella. Don't hurt him anymore."

I _hurt_ him?

I don't want to hurt him!

I shut my eyes, hoping I was dreaming.

"Give him back his life, Bella, and I … I promise you I'll take good care of him."

Let him go, let him go, let him go … Her words reverberated inside my head, gaining volume until I couldn't hear her anymore.

"Bella …"

Her voice was an echo inside my head. First, her voice was rather sad. Then she was impatient, then frustrated, and on the fourth try, worried.

I reluctantly opened my eyes.

"Yes?"

I was apparently sitting down. I didn't remember that I had sat down. The woman's face swam before my eyes and she was … bluish.

"Can you understand me?"

I blinked up at her, uncertain. She was frowning at me.

Oh god. It had happened again.

"W-what?" I stammered. My eyes darted to my lap and tentatively, I flexed my hand, half expecting numbed flesh. I bit my lip and I could feel tears in the corner of my eyes. Pain, prickling numbing pain. I willed it to go away.

Let him go, let him go. Let him go …

Slowly, experimentally, I wriggled my cold fingers. My muscles always sting when I start to lose myself and then I would space out and not remember a thing.

"Bella?"

I looked up again and she was still there. For a moment, I was amazed that she was real and I could hear her. I knew her words. They made sense to me.

I let out a relieved breath because I could understand her. She was asking me about him.

_Give him back his life._

I showed her what I was clutching in my hand. She looked blankly at my open palm.

"T-take it," I said.

"Take what?"

She eyed my palm again, puzzled.

I frowned at her.

She didn't see. She was blind like the rest of them. Blind, everyone was blind … except Edward. Only he could see what I see.

I felt my heart beating faster.

Yes, Edward sees.

"You have to let him go, Bella," she said again, her voice low.

I felt my lips move in a smile and bent my head again.

* * *

One day, I remembered my mother and I remembered her clearly. It was because of the tiny girl and the pretty older woman who visited sometimes. She was his sister, she said.

"We miss you, Bella," she whispered.

I didn't know how to talk to her, what to tell her. Her eyes were sad, often teary when she looked at me.

The woman she was with – her mother, she said – also has sad eyes. But the way she looked at me was different, as if she was trying to probe the inside of my head and sometimes, I was afraid she didn't liked what she was seeing.

What was it that was causing them such distress?

"Everything will be alright, honey," the older woman said. "We will take care of you."

That was what Renee told me, too.

_My mother called me to my room. When I got there, my clothes were scattered on the bed and she was taking down two heavy suitcases from the upper shelf of my closet._

_I stood quiet and motionless by the door._

"_I'm taking care of you, Bella," she said, not looking at me. "I'm taking care of this."_

_She managed to drag one of the luggages on top of the bed and started folding clothes. At first she was neat about it, orderly, and then she was just throwing things inside it haphazardly._

_I was still standing there, frozen, my hand gripping the doorknob. I watched her moving faster and faster, her movements without grace. _

_There were tears in her eyes._

"_M-mom?" _

"_You're going to live with your aunt, Bella," she said. _

_She shut the suitcases close and the echoes of finality were the only sound in the silent room. She looked up at me. As her tears stopped flowing, mine began._

"_I can't do this anymore, Bella."_

* * *

Today I remembered his name.

His name was Edward.

Edward brought me to his home and took care of me.

Edward said he would never leave me. He would always be with me.

I have watched Edward sleeping, his face so beautiful I often wondered if he wasn't one of … them. The lake folk.

Today, Edward was real.

I remembered making him a sandwich one morning, in his home. I tried very hard to remember what sort of sandwich I had made him. Was it a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?

I decided to make him a peanut butter with jelly sandwich today.

Slowly, I got up from my bed and stood watching the closed door. I stared at the doorknob. The doctor said it would no longer be locked from the outside. I watched my hand slowly rise, and watched my fingers close on the doorknob. Slowly, I turned it and I heard an encouraging sound.

Breathing deep, I pulled the door open and was assailed by noises. I quickly slammed it shut. I fisted my hands hanging limp at my sides, and I was panting.

Why was I leaving my room? It was not safe outside! I didn't … I didn't know anyone out there!

I backed away from the door, taking in gulps of air. Why? Why did I want to go outside? My back encountered a wall and I slid down on the floor. I hugged my knees to my chest and tried to remember.

Sandwich. Edward.

I launched myself off the floor and swung the door open before I forget again. I ran down the hallway, frantically looking left and right.

"Kitchen!" I yelled.

"Ms. Swan, please go back to your room."

I turned and a nurse I didn't recognize was approaching me.

No … no! I need to make him a sandwich!

The woman was almost near me and I was about to run around her when I saw her.

"Carmen!" I avoided the nurse and quickly walked up to her. "Carmen, I want to make a sandwich."

She frowned at me. "Are you hungry? I'll bring you food, Bella. Let me take you back to your room now."

"No, please. It's for Edward. I want to make him a sandwich. Please!"

Carmen blinked, and blinked again. And then she smiled a brilliant smile. She turned to the nurse, murmured something, and the nurse went away.

"Come with me," she said.

I had never been in the hospital kitchen. But it wasn't a kitchen, she explained. "This is the staff's pantry. What do you need, _hermanita_?"

Thirty minutes later, I went back to my room with my precious sandwich. I sat on my bed and watched the clock. It was 11am.

Carmen was at the open door, lingering, and smiling at me. "Do you want me to come back and join you for lunch, Bella?"

"What time will Edward be here?" I asked, ignoring her question in my excitement.

"It's still very early, _hermanita_. Edward will be here at three o' clock."

"I'll wait," I said happily.

I didn't know how long I sat on my bed. There was a knock on the door and Carmen was back. She smiled at me and looked at the tray of food. I blinked at it. I didn't remember lunch.

"You didn't eat much but that's alright. Are you ready to see Edward?"

Yes!

I jumped up and grabbed Edward's sandwich.

When we entered the visitors' area, I hanged back. I felt suddenly shy. What if he didn't like it?

"What's wrong, Bella?"

"Can … can I wait here?"

"If you like," she said.

I sat on the floor across from my usual corner. I sat cross-legged, Edward's sandwich in my hands and I hunched over it protectively.

And then he was there! Slowly, I got up and watched him. He went straight to my corner and stopped when he realized it was empty. He looked around, searching.

I quickly crossed the room and stopped abruptly, almost colliding with him. I gasped and he turned around. I beamed up at him.

Edward! Edward, Edward I remember you!

I was so happy, so giddy, I wanted to laugh and laugh.

"What's that you're hiding from me, my Bella?" he said, reaching out a hand as if to take what I was hiding behind my back. I nearly dropped the sandwich and I glared at him.

"I have a surprise for you," I said. I gestured for him to sit down. When he did, I too, sat down beside him, carefully easing my hidden hand around and showing him his sandwich.

"I made it!" I said happily, placing the sandwich in his hands.

I looked at him expectantly, but he was motionless staring down fixedly at his sandwich. I continued to watch him and I frowned when I saw tears on his cheeks.

"W-why are you crying, Edward?" I bit my lip worriedly. "Don't you like peanut butter and jelly?"

He made a sound and wiped the tears from his face.

Oh, please! Say you liked your sandwich, Edward! Please!

"Yeah, I do. Of course I like it," he whispered.

A flash of memory came to me.

Edward, waking me up at dawn with kisses, telling me how important I was to him, that he would always take care of me. That we would be together like we were meant to be.

I felt a tingling on my face as if he was kissing me now. My heart sped faster and I raised my hand to touch his face. I wanted to tell him to kiss me again and -

I frowned. I looked at my hand and I quickly dropped it to my side. I retreated from him, unsure of what I was doing.

I slid a sidelong glance at him and noticed that he didn't have his keyboard. I circled around him.

"Where's your piano?"

He smiled sweetly at me and pointed to his guitar. I hadn't noticed that he had placed it in an empty chair.

"Sing to me," I asked shyly.

His eyes gleamed as if there was a light inside them, illuminating his green eyes. He placed his sandwich in a safe place and sat down. He started singing his songs for me. _Hey Jude, don't make it bad … Take a sad song and make it better …_

I remembered.

"_I'll make it better, Bella," he said softly._

_We lay in bed, face to face, hands caressing skin, lips touching. I could never get enough of him. _

"_I'll always be here for you," he whispered._

_I pressed my lips harder against his. He drew me closer to him and I felt safe and protected. He stroked my back soothingly._

_Tell him you love him!_

_I cupped his face, bringing his lips closer to mine again. I wanted to tell him he was my life now. I opened my mouth and he bent and sealed my words, unspoken. _

_I couldn't tell him yet. _

_I could only show him._

His voice was deep, his singing was heartfelt. One could hear his soul voice and the listener humbled by his own humility and his willingness to bare it all, when he sings.

I wanted to touch him, to tell him I loved him.

His singing suddenly stopped and I froze. He was watching my hand, gripping the neck of his guitar.

_Not yet._

I smiled at him, hoping he could see what I feel for him. My fingers brushed his fleetingly.

"I missed you …" I breathed the words. "I missed you."

His shining eyes wouldn't look away from me and held mine, as if willing me to bare it all to him, too. To show him my secrets, my confusion, my sadness … all my weakness.

"I love you," he whispered.

I love you, too.

* * *

**UofC Medical Center, Day 134**

"I'm afraid," I said haltingly, trying to make her see.

I was in the regular hospital building, the doctors' wing. I was in Dr. Weisberger's office. They had been bringing me here for the past six weeks ever since Dr. Santiago declared me "stable".

It wasn't too far from where I was billeted, in the wards section of Mercy H. I liked the long walks. Sometimes, Carmen would accompany me and I had enjoyed our detours and our quick sightseeing in the hospital gardens.

In the last two weeks, though, I had been going to the clinics' wing by myself. It was a vote of confidence that I was still hesitant to read much into.

"You don't believe him?" Dr. Weisberger asked me.

"I want to…"

Everyday, always, he tells me the words. The most precious words I would ever hear. He loved me, he said. I wanted to believe him. I needed so very badly to believe his words.

"Do you love him?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

"Does he believe you? That you love him?"

"I … haven't told him yet … I think."

"You think?"

I rose from my chair and walked around her clinic, picking up things and putting them down again without really looking at the items.

"Bella?"

"I forget, Dr. Weisberger. Maybe I've told him. Maybe he didn't believe me, too, when I did."

Dr. Weisberger had recommended inviting Edward to join the sessions but I shied away from this suggestion. She had assured me, repeatedly, that I was ready for a joint session with him. Still, I couldn't. I was afraid.

"What are you scared of, Bella?"

I felt a rising, unrestricted panic at her question.

I tried to give her a smile but it wobbled.

What was I scared of?

That it was all an illusion, that today I was stable but as it had happened in the past, it would not last. Without warning, I found myself crying. I turned away and gazed out of her window. It was raining, just a drizzle.

I was scared I would take one look at Renee and lose it all again.

"She's not a monster, Bella."

"No." I had told Dr. Weisberger in one of our earlier sessions that I was slowly making my peace with Renee now.

No, she wasn't a monster. Not anymore. I could understand now why she was as she was. It wasn't her fault. Neither was it mine. My mother needed help as much as I did. Some day, if I was strong enough, I would offer it to her.

As for Edward ...

I'd spent so long dreaming about him, trying to remember the scent of his skin, the sound of his voice. He made me long for him, for all the things I couldn't have.

Edward had sensed that something was wrong. He knew I remembered him now. He knew I was keeping things from him and I saw it in his worried expression.

"Am I …" I gulped, wiping away tears. "Am I really okay now? Do you think I'm really ready, that I could be normal again?" If _ever_ I was normal, a bitter small voice said inside of me.

"I don't want to hurt Edward," I choked out. "I'll just be a burden to him, like I was to my mother and my aunt."

The tears burst forth again. I cried for what could have been, for the memories of my childhood. I mourned my father, I cried for my absent mother.

I cried because I had been dreaming and aching for Edward for so long and he deserved someone better, someone like Tanya.

And I cried because I would never be the right person for him.

I stared outside of the window for a long time. The rains had subsided into a light sprinkle. Eventually, the skies cleared and the sun peaked out of the receding clouds.

My tears had stopped.

"I have to let him go."

* * *

**Mercy Hospital, Day 141**

Carmen helped me packed my single suitcase. It was just a small, branded wheeled upright. It was Alice's, of course. Most of the clothes she brought me were scraps of linen really and had I worn them would barely cover my skin. But I smiled at the thought of Edward's bubbly sister.

"Well! You're all set, _hermanita_," she said cheerfully. She stood in front of me and smiled. She never would initiate touching me and would always carefully, politely wait for me to make the first move.

I returned her smile and hugged her tight. Little sister, she called me. I hoped I really was her sister.

"Now, while I am happy you'd be gone from this place, I will miss you terribly!" She said, looking away and checking the small closet in case I forgot something in there. I thought I heard sniffling but I wasn't sure. I blinked away tears, too.

"I know you, Carmen! You won't miss me, you'll miss Edward," I teased. It was cute to watch her blushing every time he was here, visiting.

I didn't mind it, her crushing on Edward. It was amusing, at times.

And suddenly the thought saddened me. I shouldn't mind it. He wasn't mine to mind and I had no right.

I took the luggage from her and rolled it out. I had already said my goodbyes to most of the patients I had been friendly with these past four and half months.

Last night the nurses and social workers, and even some of Carmen's actual relatives were in my room and we had a mini farewell party. There were many who came and the gathering spilled into the hallway.

This morning Dr. Santiago again reminded me of the schedule of therapy sessions I still needed to go to in the next months. He couldn't tell when it would end, certainly not in the next six months.

"Are you worried I'd have a relapse?" I asked nervously, again. This was a conversation that was familiar, between him and me, and between Dr. Weisberger and me.

"Oh, I'm not worried." He smiled at me. "What I'm concerned about is that _you _are worried about it, constantly. Stop this, Bella. Trust yourself and trust Edward."

Dr. Santiago repeated what he had been telling me for months now. Family and friends would help me and he has assured me that we have realistic goals. "Each step toward these goals should be small and taken one at a time," he would tell me.

* * *

I saw him before he saw me and stricken with a confusing set of emotions - panic, shyness, doubt and insecurities – I hid behind a rather tall and bushy plant.

Edward's tall form was standing casually beside the receptions desk in the lobby. He was relaxed and conversing lightly with the staff on duty. His bronze-red hair was longer now and his right hand absentmindedly brushed it away from his eyes.

His eyes … even from this far, I felt my stupid heart flutter at the greenness of his eyes. It was the first thing I loved about him, his luminous green-grass, direct-gazing, soulful eyes, as if he wouldn't let you keep secrets from him.

I took a deep breath and stepped out of my hiding place.

He turned and saw me immediately. His beautiful eyes, unbelievably, seemed to brighten even more at sight of me.

He met me halfway. I dropped the handle of my luggage and flung myself into his arms, hugging him so tight I felt his ribs protesting.

How could I leave him? I cried, shoving my face against his neck. I shivered at the thought, distressed. He felt it and his hands gripped my arms and he looked down at me. He wiped my tears away and kissed both of my eyes and the tip of my nose.

"I'm taking you home now, Bella."

I nodded and as he placed his arm around my shoulders to lead me finally to a new phase of my life, I gritted my teeth in an agony of indecision.

* * *

It's been 35 weeks since I was at the Cullens'. When we arrived in the late afternoon, the house was empty but for me and Edward.

The drive over was silent. I spent the ride looking outside the window, gazing sightless at the passing scenery.

Edward seemed to sense my hesitant, tentative disposition and kept quiet. While not exactly melancholic, I was strangely feeling lonely and clueless, as if I was newborn and I had just left the safety of my mother's womb. Nothing was familiar, including myself, and yet I knew deep in my soul that Edward was my anchor in this world.

I was glad of his empathetic nature. He was like a mind reader sometimes, able to anticipate my moods and my needs.

He opened my door for me and assisted me – like the gentleman that he was – to the front door, my bag clutched in his other hand.

"Welcome home, Bella," he said quietly, near my ear.

I half expected him to lead me straight to his room on the third floor, but he veered to the left and we entered the small sitting room, which was also the Cullens' intimate family room.

I smiled tearfully when I saw the big note posted on the wall behind the bar: "Glad you're home, Bella! We love you!" It was signed by Carlisle, Esme, Alice, Emmett, Jasper, Mrs. Cope and Rosalie. And a little pink post-it was attached to the big note, this one said, "I'll see you soon, niece, love, Aunt Marge". At the bottom of the pink slip, was a simple drawing of a red heart and Angela's name beside it.

I sighed, wiped my tears, and I wandered to a three-sitter sofa.

Edward was standing still in the doorway, his eyes on me. I smiled at him and his eyes softened. His shoulders, I saw, started to unwound its stiff posture and he allowed himself to relax.

I was sorry to see him tensed, as if expecting a blow, one that he had no intention of blocking. I always did that to him. I made him nervous and feel helpless.

There was something that I needed to tell him before we could discuss other things. I owed it to him, to explain, to give light to events that had happened months ago.

"I … I was in the tree house," I whispered. I cleared my throat and tried again. "In Boston, in Williams Street. I … I h-hid in the tree house."

He seemed uncomprehending at first, and then when realization hit, he slowly nodded. He didn't move, didn't say anything just stood there 15 feet away from me.

The memories, at times very clear, still had missing parts.

That night when I left his house I remembered walking around the streets, not knowing what to do. I only knew I had to leave the house and everyone in it. His family, the guests, him. Everyone.

I walked for an hour maybe, and then I was inside a cab. I didn't have any money and when I got out of the car, it was to hear the loud curses of the driver as he drove away. He left me there, some ways from the train station.

I walked. There was nothing else to do. I was numbed and I was moving from mild lucidity to total blankness. When I got to the station, the buzz of multitudes assailed my senses and I crouched low in one corner, my face tucked in my folded arms, hugging my knees.

I remembered thinking that I needed to find him. Edward would help me, he would take me home. At that point, I didn't know where "home" was. Then I heard it, a booming sound and I recognized the destination.

All I could think of, all I was capable of understanding at the time, was that the place was my father's home.

The things that happened after that were a blur. Bits of garbled conversation, people turning me away, a woman who was irritated because I couldn't understand her … someone shoving banknotes in my hand, someone telling me to take care. Someone was telling the woman to shut it and "give the poor girl a ticket". Then a man escorted me to the train and everything went black again.

The blasts of the train's wailing whistle would give my body a jolt and jar me into a coherent environment. Again, I was inside a speeding cab. I knew now that I had been fortunate that I could even remember the Boston address.

I watched strangers in my house. I stood by their window and watched them for a long time. I saw the little boy being cajoled by his parents to eat his meal. It had started to rain. I remembered enough to recall that there was an old tree house at the back.

I had nothing much to care about. My father was gone. That was the only thought that I could latched on to. I didn't feel any discomfort, I didn't feel hunger. I remembered thinking that when I closed my eyes again, I wouldn't ever wake up.

"A person can go without food and water for three to five days, did you know that?" I glanced up at Edward and tried to smile, but failed.

_I am flawed and I will ruin you_, my eyes implored him. _I will rather die than hurt you again._

"Bella …" Edward said softly. I shivered at the sound of his voice and shut my eyes, fighting its pull.

"_Bella_."

I looked up.

"I'll never let you go."

And I realized then, that in punishing myself for loving him, in retreating from him and his life, I was punishing him too.

* * *

*****a/n**

Thanks for reading. As we near the completion of this story, I happily note that there are more than 100 readers that have included EB in their favorites list.

Thanks for the reviews/comments!

The chapter title "Little fears" actually, is from Shakespeare's Hamlet (I don't remember which scene) – "Where love is great, the little doubts make for fear (or something like that) and when **little fears** grow great, great love grows there."


	48. Not death, but love

Still** Stephenie Meyer's**

**a/n:** Back to Edward's POV

**Chapter48/Not death, but love**

I had been waiting for these exact words for four months and seven days.

"You can bring her home, Edward," Dr. Santiago announced as soon as he entered his office. "I had just signed the release documents."

This had been in the planning for weeks. We – my family and I – had proposed several times that Bella should come home in time for Christmas. And when that didn't get the desired results, we argued heatedly and repeatedly with all her doctors and the hospital for weeks until Bella herself settled the matter by showing marked evidence of progress. In just a month, she was as stable as she would ever be, more so infact, than what one would call "normal" or normal-behaved people.

I wanted, _needed_, Bella home but now that that was going to happen, I was scared. The fact that I had two doctors living in the same house, one of them a psychologist didn't make the situation any easier.

I tamped down on my apprehension. While I couldn't bear to have Bella spend Christmas in the hospital, alone, the prospect of her finally coming home was giving me unexpected jitters.

I didn't hear Dr. Santiago's next words I was already making arrangements for Bella's release. In a week's time, it would be Christmas Eve.

* * *

God, was it over then? Was I really taking her home, finally?

I had just left Dr. Santiago's office. Visiting hours were long over and I had seen Bella earlier before my appointment with her primary.

I felt a strong urge to see her now but the door's shut with finality and the "warden" nurse was where she was supposed to be, stationed behind the small desk near the entrance hallway leading to the psychiatric ward.

There was a stone bench outside of Bella's room window and I sat down on it. She never opened her window but it didn't matter. This was as close as I could get to her tonight.

I had stopped smoking and I only smoked one stick when Bella was first brought here, but I wished I had a cig now. I fucking needed it.

For the past two months, I had carefully watched and monitored Bella's progress. I knew she had been slowly recalling bits and pieces of her life, and more importantly, she remembered me now. But there was a fear in her that I couldn't quite penetrate or understand fully. I could understand her lingering insecurities and doubts for I had them too, but I was getting frustrated about her unwillingness to talk about it with me.

Dr. Weisberger had given me insights and not little hints about what was troubling Bella, but the patient-doctor confidentiality clause still prevented her doctors from fully disclosing to me the things that Bella had told them.

The fears and concerns still besetting her, and would probably stay with her for some time still, was her mother and the gap between them. We – my family, her aunt, and her doctors – we all felt that we could help her through this and we're all prepared and willing to plug the gap that was her mother's missing presence in her life.

Dr. Weisberger has assured us that Bella has shown remarkable recovery in dealing with the absent Renee and I believed her. I had listened to Bella herself talk about her mother more than once. It was just a small mention at times but I saw it as a positive reaffirmation that she was moving on, with or without her mother.

The mother issue was being settled, as far as her doctors were concerned. It was a slow process but there was a very positive development there.

"Tell me again, Dr. Santiago …" I sat forward and clasped both of my hands together as if in prayer, wanting his reassurance once more. "She wants to go home with me, right? She trusts me?"

The doctor leaned back in his seat and regarded me in a meditative manner. I didn't look away from his stare nor did I blink.

"What is it that you want to hear, Edward? That you have become the center, focal point in her life?"

I fought the urge to wince and somehow managed to say, "We've been discussing her situation for months now, I'd like to think you know better than to tell me what I want to hear." This time I let out an impatient sigh.

"Then, Edward, as discussed _before_, you are well aware that Bella trusts you and at the moment, and I don't know how long this will go on, you are her center. It's an enormous responsibility you're going to take on but given time and having observed Bella myself these past months … the girl is strong and she's determined not to be a burden to you or to anyone."

I was well aware that I needed to give this my full attention but at times, like today, it felt as if a portion of my mind kept pulling away – panicked, unsure and unable to get rid of these fucking insecurities.

My family and friends could help once Bella was home. It was important that she would not stop taking her medication or stop going to follow-up appointments. The result to doing the opposite was obvious, her symptoms would likely return. Sometimes symptoms become severe if medication and treatment was abruptly stopped.

Bella wanted to get well and I knew she would do anything to stay stable and continue with the recovery process.

_But would she stay with you?_ A niggling voice kept echoing in my head.

The fact that she needed me now did not mean she would stay with me always. I couldn't seem to escape from this fucking sense of foreboding. And when I was in this place, a place of doubt, my mind wouldn't quite clear. I needed to focus on the matter at hand, and that was Bella and her coming home. Still, I felt uneasy.

And a bit scared.

And angry.

And guilty, because why was I even angry at all? Because for a long time, Bella wanted to escape everything, to escape _me_, and she had a more convenient place to hide, whereas I only have my frustration and guilt – all too real, and too strong an emotion to ignore.

I rubbed my hand across my face and ruffled my hair off my forehead.

Bella would need support during this time. I would have to avoid the urge to pressure or criticize her and I'd sure hell make sure no one else would either. I must do what was necessary to keep her symptoms from manifesting or they might get worse the next time. _If_ there would be a next time.

And there _wouldn't_ be, I silently swore to myself.

Esme had repeatedly told me to always remind Bella that she was doing something right and the best way, really, was to help her move forward. I couldn't dwell on whether or not she wanted to stay with me. The most important thing was that she was happy, content and comfortable.

"You must understand, Edward," my mother said. "This is a biological illness. There will be times when love is not enough. She needs our respect and our support and when she will ask for it, to leave her be and let her sort her life back, all on her own."

* * *

Five days before I was to bring Bella home, my father called us to another of those family meetings. What he was about to tell me, to remind me, did not surprise me, of course.

"We've moved all of Bella's things to the guest room," Carlisle said casually enough, and I hid a grin, for he sounded defensive as if fully expecting me to launch an attack.

Alice and Jasper went to Renee's apartment two months ago to pack all her clothes and the few belongings she possess. I wasn't asking about her, nor minding her whereabouts, but my sister said Bella's mom had left the city.

Gone to live in New York with her fiancé, my mother speculated. She had refused to accompany Alice when she went to pick up Bella's few stuff from the empty apartment. I didn't think she was avoiding Renee to prevent a confrontation with witnesses, but that she'd rather not encounter Bella's mom in a very sensitive situation.

I think my mother couldn't, and wouldn't, forgive Renee for her abandonment of her own daughter no matter what her reasons, or past trauma, had been.

She was gazing at me now, her expression contemplative.

"You're quite alright with this, Edward?"

"I agree with you both. Bella will need her own space," I said, giving them my best I'm-with-you grin.

Emmett laughed and Alice smiled.

"Not much bother, eh, bro? I guess I know where you'll be sleeping." He ended grunting the last words as my sister smacked him behind his head.

Then Alice stood up and gave me a hug. "And we promise to give you both as much privacy as you need. I am allowed, though, to drive Bella when it's our time to bond, right?"

Alice has made a draft of house rules and schedules, centered around Bella, for the most part.

"You have school, Alice," my mother chimed in. "I will accompany her to her appointments."

And so it went on, the women in my family doing a lot of last-minute touches in Bella's new room.

* * *

The day was finally here. Bella was home.

When we entered the house, I knew it would be empty.

The Cullens had decided to give Bella and me the privacy of an entire afternoon and evening. I was grateful for the additional time. I wanted Bella to be as comfortable and as pressure-less as possible.

My family returned home after dinner to find Bella sleeping on the sofa in the sitting room.

After Bella told me where she had been in the five harrowing days that she went missing in Boston, the telling seemed to have drained her of pent-up worry and exhausted, I asked her to rest a bit before supper.

I sat on the opposite chair watching her sleep. By 10pm, my parents and siblings were home.

My mother found me in my vigil pose, and she took the other chair. She reached out a hand and clasped mine.

"How was it?"

I told her what Bella recounted to me. She looked relieved and I asked her why.

"It's good that she's volunteering to talk, Edward. It means she's ready and willing to move on."

Alice entered the room and stood gazing down at Bella. "Her room's ready, has she seen it?"

"No," I murmured.

My sister seemed to have detected a note in my voice and she turned to me. "She _is_ staying in that room, isn't she?"

"Sure," I said, suddenly not meaning it. And before I changed my mind about it all, I decided to wake her up.

* * *

She walked to the center of her new room and stood there, silent. I was nervously standing by the door. As quietly as possible, I shut the door and waited.

There was a new set of windows built on one side, my mother insisted on it. She said the additional sunlight in the room would soothe Bella. Sunlight or yellow light brought a sense of optimism and mental clarity in a room, she said.

With her aunt's help, and some consulting from her friend, Angela, my mother designed a room that I thought was perfect for Bella. The walls were painted mint green, which she assured me was a healing color. I had thought that it resembled hospital greens, though.

"Nonsense," Mom said. "Light yellow can calm frazzled nerves and encourage a quiet, balanced, mental power," she said firmly, booting me out of the room so she could redecorate without distractions or, apparently, further critical comments from me.

She did admit that that was why so many hospitals have painted green walls, for the color was known to inspire a healing and stimulates rejuvenation, self-confidence, self-assurance, and a renewal of body, mind and spirit.

"Right," I muttered, watching a silent Bella. I needed a boost of confidence myself, at the moment. She had been silent since being told that instead of bunking with me upstairs, she was now to occupy the other room on the ground level.

She might have heard me, I wasn't sure, but she turned to face me.

"Do you like this room?"

There was a long pause before she solemnly nodded and then she smiled.

"I loved it, Edward. Your mom's really talented."

I let out a relieved sigh and drew the curtains aside from the big windows. This room has a view of the back garden and the pool. A newly-installed door leads to the circular patio outside, similar to my parents' room on the other side of the house. Outside, my mom placed two wicker armchairs with bright green and orange cushions and throws.

Bella was standing beside the bed when I drew the curtains close again. The room's lighting was soft and dimmed, only one of the wall lamps and the corner fluorescent were lighted, giving the room a soothing and intimate vibe.

I watched her nervously fiddle for a moment and I felt her shyness. It had been a long time since I was this much alone with her in a room. And a room with a bed, at that.

Her lips parted and then she paused again, as if not quite sure what to do. She was so painfully shy around me.

Finally she looked up and smiled at me. I took a deep breath and I hoped the sweet smile was a sign of encouragement, or a signal for me that it was alright to be closer to her now, even touch her.

I held out a hand to her and to my relief, she gingerly took it. I gently urged her onto the bed. I sat with my back against the headboard and she leaned on me. Tentatively, I brought my arm around her shoulder. I heard her release a big sigh and felt her body ease unto mine.

She placed her hand on my heart, to feel its staggering beats. If she was shy, I was fucking nervous.

"What are you thinking?" I asked her. I kissed the top of her head.

"I'm very lucky," she whispered. "Thank you, Edward." She reached up and kissed my cheek.

Further encouraged, I had lowered my head to kiss her mouth but then I stopped, hovering. Was it okay to kiss her? Was she ready?

She pushed herself away and looked at my mouth. She bit her lip and there was uncertainty in her eyes. She looked away and I dipped my head lower and then she turned back and gasped when she realized I was a bare inch away.

She didn't move and my hand came to rest on the small of her back and slowly, the space between us diminished. "May I kiss you?" It was not even a whisper I breathed the words against her mouth. At her nod, I gently touched my mouth with hers and she sighed.

She parted her lips as if to speak but before I even had a second to breathe, her lips were on mine again and it was gentle and tender. I brushed my lips back and forth across hers and the small friction sent shivers and tingles through my body.

_God, _I missed her.

I inhaled her scent and kissed her as gently as I could, as patiently and with restraint. Must not overwhelm her, I kept telling myself.

But, fuck! I had really, sorely, missed my Bella.

"Bella," I muttered, taking my mouth away but only by a quarter inch. "Bella, you know … I've told you -"

"What?" she asked timidly.

"I love you." I gulped. "You know I love you and I meant it every time I've said it to you, right?" I said in a rush. I was not nervous anymore. I was getting fucking scared.

"I was afraid to … to remember you," she said in a soft breath, I almost missed it. "But then … I thought that just for a moment, just for a few seconds I could pretend. And maybe wish, just a little …"

She stopped talking and her tears, which she had been trying to contain since coming into the room, streaked down her cheeks.

"What is it, Bella?"

"Do you love me as much as I love you?" she whispered brokenly but her eyes were bright, almost fierce.

And then I wasn't scared or nervous anymore. She loved me. I knew it and she would love me always.

I smiled at her, brushing her tears away. "Well, maybe not as much," I teased.

The tension broken, she choked off a laugh and I wiped away the last streaks of her tears.

I hugged her to me, tight, unspeaking for several moments.

When I brought Bella home, that long ago, and I realized that she had a condition, I did think I was doomed.

I was doomed and yet I still believed that what I did was the right thing. Later, I realized the mistakes that I made in not recognizing the signs sooner but I couldn't regret anything.

Like Bella, I was lost but unlike her, I had taken the typical male attitude of finding the person I love and then throwing away everything because of my self doubts. And when I realized that I had messed up, I couldn't dwell on this because you only get a few chances and I had blamed myself enough for everything.

"Will you give me another chance?"

"What are you talking about, Edward?" she asked, frowning slightly at me.

"I messed up."

"And why do you think that you messed up?" Her tone was mild but I detect a hint of sharpness.

"I wasn't there for you, when it started," I said quickly. "And even before that, I should have seen what was happening to you."

She just stared at me.

"It was obvious enough," I mumbled when she didn't react or say anything immediately.

She blinked and then she did the one thing I wasn't expecting. She slapped her open palm against my chest and growled at me.

"You've been _blaming_ yourself all this time?" She glared at me. "And here I am thinking you're the normal one!"

"It was my fault," I said slowly. I didn't move an inch less she starts hitting me again.

She sighed and rubbed my chest soothingly, in an apparent apology. "Edward, no one is to blame. Not you, not me, and not even Mom," she said. "This thing is a part of me. I wish I could tell you that it will go away, but it won't. I can only promise you that I'll do my very best – for your sake and mine – to control this thing for the rest of my life."

"Our lives," I said huskily, raising her hand and kissing it. "For the rest of _our _lives, okay?"

She began crying again but she was smiling happily.

She cleared her throat. "_'For the rest of our lives'_ a pretty long time, Edward. Are you sure?"

"You're not paying attention, sweetheart. Didn't you hear what I said earlier?"

"What? That you love me?" One corner of her mouth quirked up and I kissed it, unable to keep myself from touching her.

"More than you love me."

* * *

The next morning, I found Bella outside helping Alice and Mom accessorize one of the three pine trees in the garden. All three were the Cullens' traditional live Christmas trees.

I volunteered to help but Alice drafted me as the delivery guy for the day and was about to send me out to pick up more Christmas decors when Bella got up and said she wanted to come with me.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked her as soon as we were out of the driveway.

"Don't you have some things to pick up for your sister?" She was sitting still enough but I could feel an excited energy coming off her and I realized that this was the first time in more than four months that she was going out.

"Sure, but we can do that later. Is there somewhere you want to be?" I insisted. I think I was willing to drive her anywhere, even all the way to Boston. She was so excited she was egging me on to drive faster.

"I want to buy gifts for your family," she said eagerly.

Twenty minutes later I drove her to a stretch of shops that she was familiar with. At the entrance of the first store, Bella turned to me. "I'll be okay here, Edward." She gestured for me to leave her and I froze, then I blinked at her.

"Bella, I can't leave you, alone, here," I said, trying not to glower at her. Was she fucking kidding me? Leave her alone? On her second day out of the hospital?

"Really, I'll be fine. Go pick up your sister's stuff."

_Respect _and support, my mother's voice echoed in my head. "Let her know you trust her ..." The phantom voice added.

Fuck. This was going to be harder than I thought. I swallowed convulsively.

Bella sighed, and smiling, she wiped the lines of worry off my brow. "Edward, I'm not going anywhere, I'll be here, shopping. Don't worry. And you're acting like I'm five years old."

"Don't be silly," I muttered, then, "Fine." I could do this, she's an adult. I took a deep breath. "I'll meet you back here after two hours, okay?"

"Four."

"Two hours, Bella."

"Fine."

She said goodbye but I just stood there, watching her go inside the store. She was about to go up the staircase when she abruptly stopped and whirled around. She smiled brightly when she saw I was still there.

I was half hoping she'd changed her mind and wanted me to stay with her. But that was not the case.

"Edward! I don't have any money," she said, embarrassed.

I rolled my eyes at her and teased, "So this means I have to be with you now." She didn't have her credit card anymore, she would have to use mine and I smirked at her, smug.

She smiled and dragged me to an automated teller machine.

* * *

The next night was Christmas Eve. Bella had spent most of the day helping my mom prepare for Christmas and the big lunch that was a tradition in our family.

And all day, I sort of hovered around her.

"The busy holidays are helping her slowly reintegrate herself back into normal life again, Edward. Don't worry too much," Mom said.

I had to admit, she was right.

Bella had let herself get immersed in the holidayness of the past two days since she had come home, and a good part of that was due to Alice, who was crazier in the days leading to Christmas.

The activities of the day proved too much for Bella, however. Before it was even midnight, she was asleep. I briefly woke her up for a mistletoe kiss that she sleepily obliged to.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

She gave me a small smile and went back to sleep.

* * *

But it was her who woke me up on Christmas Day.

"Merry Christmas, Edward," she said, snuggling against me in my bed.

I managed to mumble a greeting and I yawned, hugging her tight to my side.

"Please wake up."

I snorted and tried to fully wake up. I squinted at the alarm clock and groaned. It was 6am. I went to bed, as with the rest of the residents of the house with the obvious exception of Bella, at 3am.

"You're a Christmas morning person, aren't you?" I muttered, rubbing my face vigorously.

"I'm a morning person, period," she said happily. "Sit up, I brought hot chocolate!"

Her face was flushed pink and she was looking around my room with curiosity. The curtains were drawn aside and the windows opened wide, and early morning light had spilled into the room.

Mom didn't stop with redecorating Bella's room, she did mine as well and she added a very important portion to the existing room.

"Oh! This is so cool, Edward. I love your room, it's huge."

A corner of the room, an addition, had been redesigned as a music-slash-recording studio and the wall on that side was filled with CDs, a good collection of old records and other musical instruments. The door was open and she could see that in the center of the new room stood a baby grand.

"You got what you wanted," she cried, kissing me quickly and jumping up to closely observe the piano.

She opened the cover and lightly skimmed her fingers on the gleaming keys.

"When I was … when I was in the hospital, Edward, I'd dream of you playing the piano, and you were so happy and I'll be happier because that's all I want, for you to get what you want and do the things you've always wanted to do." She brushed a hand to her face. She was crying. "I'm sorry I'm rambling but … this … you'll be a musician now? Really? You'll be composing and all that?" At my nod, she beamed up at me. "You'll be so great, Edward! I know it."

"You made me do it, Bella."

"I did?"

"You made me go to Bienen and you might not remember this but you're the one who made me sing again and to start writing songs, Bella."

"I did?" she said again, smiling shyly.

"Do you remember this?" I sat on the piano stool and I pressed several notes on the white keys, the beginning tunes of her Beatles song. Her eyes when she looked at me softened and I leaned closer to kiss her.

She sat on the stool. "I do remember, Edward. You played that a lot for me." This song was one of her favorites and I'd play it every day for her.

When she was beginning to respond positively to her medication, I started playing other songs but I'd always remember this song as my only hope of communicating with her, at the time when nothing else was possible.

I turned fully to her and brushed her hair off her beautiful face. I leaned down and lightly sucked on her bottom lip. She shivered and pressed closer to me.

"I wrote a song for you, my Bella," I whispered against her mouth. "May I play it for you?"

Teary eyed, she nodded.

I played her lullaby.

Sometimes it felt as if it had taken me just minutes to compose her song but in the months that she was confined, the song would go on and on and there seemed to be no ending to it.

The beginning melody was sweet, full of promise and yet tempered with mystery, of the unknown. The music built up to a middle crescendo. This set was a mournful melody of despair and about the bottomless pit of self-doubt. I played as if I was alone in my room again, worrying about Bella, torturing myself of the uncertain future.

I remembered every bitter, helpless thought I had during the days that she was missing. I remembered when I found her, how angry I was then, at myself, at her. I remembered when I first witnessed her in her most disturbed state and knew that Bella was gone. And I remembered every time she wept and she couldn't tell me why.

And then … the dark notes were over, and I played a sweet melody once more. This one was better than the beginning notes, lighter and yet it was somber in its renewal of a promise.

I played the last notes like a man making a vow to his girl.

I had stopped playing for some time when she stirred and stood up, clasping my hand, and I stood up as well.

"Edward …" Her voice was trembling. "Edward, I love you so much and I ... I'll n-never leave you again."

I only nodded, squeezing her hands. I had no words yet, only the language of my music.

"I swear to you, Edward, with everything in me … we're going to make it."

* * *

We spent the next two hours in bed, just talking.

She told me about her childhood and for the first time, she talked about her father. Not the bad times, but only the good years when they were together and happy as a family. She had forgiven him for she understood him now, she said.

She talked and talked, and at intervals, her emotions would get the better of her and she would cry and I would soothe her, telling her how much I loved her, again and again.

She cleared her throat.

"Um, I'll give you my gift soon. I … I hoped you'd want it."

I was in her room and it was near lunch time. The Hales were expected and Bella was doing last minute gift wrapping.

I leaned against the door and lazily gave her a crooked smile. "I'm sure I'd want anything you'd give me, Bella."

She raised an eyebrow and shot me a suspicious look. "Not that gift."

I laughed but before I could make further insinuating comments, our visitors had arrived.

Bella shot past me and made a beeline to the front door. I knew Bella and Rosalie seemed to have gotten over their initial awkwardness with each other and I knew Rosalie would sometimes accompany my brother when visiting Bella. But I didn't think she'd be this excited to see Jasper's sister.

When I rounded the corner to greet the Hales, I found that the visitor was not a Hale, but Mrs. Margret Swan Duffin.

"My aunt is here!" Bella squealed and I couldn't help but be joyful for her, she was so happy. She whispered something to her aunt and to my surprise, Bella ushered her aunt and me to the living room and then outside to the patio and dashed back inside, leaving us there.

Aunt Marge was flushed but she was smiling.

"I'm very glad to see you, ma'am, but what's this all about?" I asked her, confused.

"Well, Edward, it seems that I'm here to deliver my niece's Christmas gift for you," she said, not giving an inch of a hint.

"Huh. All the way from London." And remembering my manners, I added quick words of welcome and gratitude.

She brushed this aside and looked me straight in the eye. "Well, I'm here and I think you'd want this. Very much."

"Mrs. Duffin …" The suspense was killing me.

Aunt Marge opened the zipper of her shoulder bag and took out a folded sheet of paper, which she handed to me with a solemn, serious face.

I frowned at it.

"What are you waiting for? Open it," she said, frowning back at me but her eyes were shining.

Slowly, I unfolded the document. I looked at it, dazed, and finally read its contents, shocked.

Aunt Marge had given me sole guardianship of Bella.

"Is … this is for real? This is legal?"

Bella was 19 but she had a medical record and for all things legal, she would always need guardianship authority from her closest kin. I wasn't a relative nor Aunt Marge her closest kin. There was Renee but she had transferred guardianship and trustee to Bella's aunt three years ago.

And now it was mine. I felt my heart begin to swell.

Aunt Marge was right. I wanted this, very much.

"It would do until she's your wife." Then she looked up at me sharply and I held her fixed, intimidating stare. "You _are_ planning on marrying her one day, I presume?"

I grinned at her. "Most assuredly and definitely yes, ma'am."

"Well, then. Merry Christmas to you, my dear boy."

* * *

**6 weeks later**

"I'm engaged!"

My sister was running around the house and generally flapping about like a headless chicken let lose in the barn.

Jasper had a crazy grin on his prick face, the prick.

"This better be a long engagement," my mother said, half-serious, half-jokingly in a disconcerted way. Her only daughter, after all, had just turned 18.

My father had turned to stone.

I smirked at the frozen look on Carlisle's face, and I was convinced that Jasper was the bravest and reckless idiot I had ever met.

"When is the big day?" I asked, stoking the fire, hoping to see a blaze any second now. Bella, always sitting beside me, poked me on the side in a rebuking manner. I quickly dropped a kiss on her cheek, grinning at her.

"Oh, we'll get married on -" my sister began, but Dad interrupted - "_In_ 10 years."

"Three!" My sister glared at him.

"Five?" He sort of pleaded, looking to Esme for back up.

"Actually, Carlisle, the wedding will be in five years," said Jasper, trying to smoothen the frazzled nerves of the future in-laws, and giving his new fiancée a don't-start-and-be-quiet look.

It was decided that the family would be dining out to celebrate the happy occasion.

I went up to my room, with Bella in tow. The thought of her spending the next hours in my room, alone with me, had the usual effect of making me tensed and stiff. But in the six weeks since she had been home, I hadn't even made any serious attempt at getting her to bed.

I figured since she didn't make a move herself, that she wasn't ready to sleep with me. And truth was, despite my perpetual stiffness, so was I.

We used the time, mostly, for talking and just spending as much time together.

Bella would sometimes accompany me to my classes. She wanted to see what college was like. All my classes were nowadays held at the Chicago campus.

One day, she said she missed my singing and the guitar. So that night, I brought her to a small bar where in some evenings, the customers get up on the stage to play an instrument, or sing, or do both. And since I could definitely do both, I became a regular performer.

And in one of my "scheduled" nights (I was performing but not in a professional capacity) the applause I would usually expect from the friendly, loyal and highly appreciative crowd seemed to have doubled and I looked up to find Carmen and her friends loudly cheering me on after three songs.

I sent an accusing glare at Bella, who just smiled sweetly at me. She mouthed "fan mania" and to my amazement, joined Carmen in her group cheer and even gave me an un-Bella like whistle. I didn't even know she could produce such a sound, and this was a fingerless whistle.

That wasn't the first un-Bella like gesture that I had witness her do, during the last weeks.

She was still shy of course, it was her nature to be quiet and unassuming, to never call attention to herself. She was a true homebody and was happier to stay indoors. When I was out or attending classes, she would spend most of her time with Mom. It makes me smile to see them bonding and I knew Bella had found the mother she never had.

But there was something quite new about her. She was, at times, like a completely different person. She was more relaxed, more affectionate and surprisingly easier to please.

I almost wept the first time she told me a joke. Bella _never_ tells jokes.

And then she insisted on learning how to drive, to my horror.

"Aunt Marge said she'll ship me her VW as soon as I have a license," she said, very smug. The next day, I called her aunt to confirm this offer and it seemed Bella had omitted one crucial "if".

"Your aunt will give you her car if _I_ and only I, think you're good and ready," I said smoothly, secretly very fucking happy that I had Mrs. Duffin's hard-won trust where her niece was concerned.

"Oh? What if I sleep with you? Will that make me _good_ and ready?" she countered, batting her eyelashes at me.

That gave me pause.

Bella was prone to making jokes now, but I didn't think this was one of them.

I was fucking tempted like I'd never been tempted in my life, because all this abstinence had made her the single most desirable element on earth. I was willing to give her my own car if it meant sleeping with her.

"We'll see," was the only thing I could say.

She laughed, kissed me slowly, lingeringly, and left me in my stiffest state to date. Blue fucking balls, and my poor cock was so swollen I almost passed out from lack of blood.

* * *

"Do you feel like you're married?" This was from Emmett. He was observing the newly engaged couple from across the table, and then he looked at Rosalie. I noticed that my brother's eyes had softened, fixed on his girlfriend.

I snorted at him. I was living in the same house with Bella, but did it make me feel married?

What was that old joke among married folks? "You know you're married when you're not having sex," I muttered. I was pretty sure that's the oldest marital joke that had ever existed.

Not to my brother, apparently. Emmett barked out a loud guffaw which had everyone turning inquiring faces at us.

I felt my face burn when I saw Bella hiding a small smile. She probably heard me.

All through dinner I was surreptitiously eyeing Bella. She was wearing one of Alice's concoctions on her and it was a dress I wasn't strong enough to resist.

I began to plan. I figured that she wearing that short dress was a challenge thrown at me, one I was willing to take on. My balls had invented a new shade of blue. It was sleep with her or lose a limb, a very valuable limb.

I knew just the one thing to do to save this valuable limb. The one thing that Bella was absolutely crazy about me was my singing and tonight, I was planning on pulling out all the stops.

* * *

The crowd that night was the usual, mostly yuppies, some college students. Sometimes a celebrity would drop by but this was a laid back kind of place and nobody would care even if Mick Jagger should walk in and jam with the regular customers.

I invited the whole clan at Sing Nights bar. Alice, my brother and their respective partners were already familiar with the place. My mother was only too pleased to go. I inherited my singing voice from her, after all.

Bella as she always was, was very excited about hearing me sing. She was breaking my heart with loving her, she really did. I honestly think I would do anything for this girl, the only girl in the whole fucking universe.

"Happy?" I asked her softly. We were sitting very close to each other and I had my arm around her.

"Happy," she whispered back.

When it was my turn on the stage, I strolled in looking confident with my guitar. Inside, I was a nervous wreck. I was planning to lay down my soul for her, infront of a whole crowd of strangers.

"This is for my Bella," I said to the mic. I cleared my throat. "I wrote this song for her."

Cat calls from the women and not a few from the men, greeted my opening strings. I grinned for the loudest of the whistles came from my brother and to my surprise, from my Dad.

The room was dark and I couldn't see her but I knew I'd be the only one she was focused on, as every fiber of my being was honed in on _her_.

_I give her all my love  
That's all I do  
And if you saw my love  
You'd love her too  
I love her ..._

_She gives me ev'rything  
And tenderly  
The kiss my lover brings  
She brings to me  
And I love her …_

_A love like ours  
Could never die  
As long as I  
Have you near me_

_Bright are the stars that shine  
Dark is the sky  
I know this love of mine  
Will never die  
And I love her …_

_Bright are the stars that shine  
Dark is the sky  
I know this love of mine  
Will never die  
And I love her …_

When I had finished the song to very loud applause and cheers, I looked to the only person that mattered to me most.

People saw what they expected to see and I surely didn't expect to see Bella's expression.

It was everything and more than I ever hoped for. It was love, but it was a love that only my Bella could give me, embraced me with, and sustain me for my whole life.

It might have started tragic, even doomed at first. But we're still here and we're going to make it.

And yeah, soon as we got home, we made love for the first time in 197 days.

The girl didn't have a chance after that song.

...

...

...

**-The End-**

* * *

*****a/n**

Thank you so much for your interest and patience. This is the final chapter.

Thanks to the wonderful readers who always find time to leave a review!

Edward's song was actually the Beatles' "And I love her". I just liked the words to the song so I used it.

Elizabeth Browning quote (in the title): "Guess now who holds thee?" – "Death," I said. But there the silver answer rang – "Not death, but Love."

Last EB chapter posted: February 15, 2011


	49. Epilogue

**Stephenie Meyer** owns the original, I'm just borrowing some.

**Epilogue**

**5**** years and 5 months later**

"Happy birthday..."

I sighed deeply, waking up slowly, enveloped in her cozy and familiar warmth. I should be used to this by now but it still leaves me a surprised feeling of elation whenever I would wake up to her soft voice.

My pre-wakening smile widened when I felt her skin next to mine. Happy birthday to me indeed, I thought contentedly, my hand gliding over her smooth arm, down the indent of her waist, over the curve of a hip and finally, gripping her thigh and coaxing it to open.

_I'm __one lucky, fucking bastard._

"Yes. You. Are."

I snorted, opening one eye. "Sleep-talking is your department, lady."

"And you have no filter when you wake up in the mornings." She lifted her eyes to mine, and she was breathless by the persistence of my inquisitive fingers between her legs.

"It's too much," she gasped in a whisper, but I heard her.

"Do you want this very quick, baby?"

Slowly, she shook her head.

With one hand, I shucked off my boxers and began to thoroughly enjoy my birthday gift.

* * *

"Don't get up yet."

"Why?" I asked lazily. My arm was covering my face and I couldn't have made myself move an inch even if Mrs. Smithson, who lived in the big house next door, yelled Fire or Bomb.

"Because, birthday boy, I'm going to make you my special 'Edward is 26' sausage steak bun."

"You mean a hamburger?"

"No, I mean it's a minced steak sandwich with lettuce, onions, pickles and a very thinly sliced tomato."

"So it's a gourmet hamburger." I grinned when I heard her sigh, muttering "wise cracking redneck" as she picked up my discarded shirt on the floor and flounced out of the room.

Emitting a deep sigh myself, I settled back on our bed, my hands under my head, whistling tunelessly like a guy who had just been extremely satisfied. I arched my back and groaned when my stretch reminded me of scratch marks down my back. Minx, I mused.

The bedroom door was open. I could hear Bella in the kitchen of our small three-bedroom house, which Alice called The Cottage. It wasn't that small, but it was quaint and Bella loved it at first sight.

She had turned on the iPod speakers and a familiar melody could be heard. The song, when I first wrote it, was originally called "Bella 39". It was how I tag all my compositions to make recall easier.

J.E. Jones, one of the four music and record producers I work with on a regular basis, renames all my music anyway once these were included in my contracts and signatures.

This particular song, a top billboard hit, was called "Great Expectations". It wasn't a play on the classic Dickens book, but actually a series of paraphrases of these two words as expressed through lyrical lines and of course, the melody.

The song was about hope and about continuance, of defeating overwhelming odds. It was also about giving the best gift a woman could ever give the man that she loved. At this thought, I frowned.

"Impatient for your _hamburger_?"

I quickly wiped the frown off my brow and winked at her. Truth was, I was more interested in her than food, especially since I was reacting to the fact – which was totally visible to her - that she was completely naked under my shirt.

She raised her eyebrow at my rising, proud cock and she pursed her lips. "Well, what's it going to be?"

"You. Burger later."

* * *

A year after Bella started living with us, I decided to move out of my parents' house. I didn't go very far, that was impossible with Bella in the house. We agreed that a 15-minute drive was far and independent enough for the both of us.

It was hard, at first. Most afternoons after school I would find her waiting on the steps of my building, patiently typing on her notebook. By this time, Bella was enrolled in an informal writing course at UofC. The schedules and academic load were light enough and without too much stress that it would not interfere with her sessions with Dr. Weisberger.

The sight of her, sitting in one corner and waiting for me almost daily, bring forth that unnamed emotion inside me, a feeling or sentiment that was more than love or affection.

When she would look up and smile at me as if I was the reason she was breathing, I could almost identify the emotion.

Devotion.

As I was devoted to her, I was lucky enough to have the same devotion from her.

My family too, in their own way, was equally supportive and has remained committed to Bella. To both of us, I guess.

None of us have left Chicago. I didn't think anyone would. No one could tear themselves away from the homebase that was my parents' house in Oak Street.

My brother lived near us, although in another building with his fiancée, thank god. It would defeat the purpose of living away from home if Emmett was just two doors away.

Alice was still living with Mom and Dad, much to her grumbling. But my sister was just pretending that she was being held at home under duress. She loved being the youngest child, thus the last sibling to be roosting with the parents. Besides, I didn't think she was staying longer than three days at home most weeks, and practically lives with Jasper. It didn't matter. In three weeks she would be married and out of the roost for good.

She would argue though, that of the three of us, she was the truly adventurous one since soon, she and Jasper would live an hour away from Chicago. I gave a mental shrug. It was not possible for me to live an hour away from Bella.

* * *

Stuck in school during the day, I missed Bella every hour and it was ridiculous to feel the temporary loss since we saw each other every damn day.

I had been living on my own for six months when I started toying with the idea of asking Bella to live with me. She wouldn't be very far from everyone and by everyone I really meant my mother.

Esme had become as fiercely protective of Bella as she was with Alice, sometimes even more so. There was a bond between them that I didn't think even they themselves understood.

When I graduated from Bienen and had to spend six months in New York, Bella came with me. There was no question about it, I wasn't going to leave her in Chicago. It was then that I broached the idea of moving in together. Her first reaction was panic. What if she couldn't take care of me? she said. To which, I countered - "What if I couldn't look after you?"

It was a draw and that was that. We agreed to disagree that we were likely to screw up and be the happiest people because of it.

By the time the New York thing came up, Bella's psycho-therapist could let go of her for a couple of months and if there was a real need for it, there were plenty of recommended doctors near Columbia U.

On the third month that we were on our own in a flat near the campus, my Mom booked a flight to New York and then later was joined by my father.

We never discussed it, but I knew. Bella wasn't just my girlfriend, my partner. She was a daughter to Esme and Carlisle, too. She was family and we took care of our own.

It was in New York where I sold my first compositions. I didn't see the money, not really, until a year later. We were back in Chicago when the regular calls started coming.

On Bella's 22nd birthday, I released my first CD. It was an album of 16 original compositions. It wasn't long after that successful launch and market reception that I received my first commission to score for a notable, big budget movie. I almost became deaf and might not have ever composed again when I told my sister. Her squeals were supersonic-loud enough to create tremors at the center of the Earth.

Bella just wept, silently, and with all the love in her glowing eyes that I would ever fucking need in several lifetimes.

* * *

"Are you nervous about your interview?"

Bella took a long time preparing for her appointment this morning.

"Yes, actually, and it's …Oh, I don't know why I'm obsessing about this." She brushed her hair off her face in an impatient gesture and abruptly sat down on the bed to put on her shoes.

"Baby, you know Jack likes your work. He wouldn't have made the invitation if you weren't a sure thing," I soothed. Jack was the editor of the foodie magazine that Bella was contributor for some months now. This was her first freelance writing job.

"Maybe I should postpone this? It's your birthday and we should be doing something together instead of me working," she said, giving me an appealing look.

"Bella, come on. It will be okay. _You_ will be okay, more than okay, okay?"

She giggled and kissed my cheek. "Very eloquent for a hot shot composer," she teased. "Really, I'm just okay?"

"I said _more than_ okay. You are perfect."

"That's better, Mr. Future Grammy Winner."

* * *

I waited for Bella for an hour and a half. The interview must be going really well. I patiently waited for her at a Starbucks across the street from the imposing office towers.

Jack was an acquaintance of Emmett and he was the one who convinced Bella to apply for a more permanent work as one of the food writers of the syndicated magazine. The work load wasn't too demanding and she would work from home.

Bella had one more semester before finishing her creative writing major but that was not a real issue with the editor-in-chief. She was so good at writing - so expressive and lyrical - and with her passion for pastries she was just poised to succeed in this career.

Half an hour later, I saw her walking briskly towards the café. She burst through the door and went straight to my table, and onto my lap.

She didn't need to say anything, at all.

"Good job, sweetheart."

* * *

"How's your birthday so far?" she asked me later that afternoon. We were walking leisurely at the Green Wood Park and I was carrying her shoes and handbag. She had carelessly slung it on my shoulder but I wasn't having that.

"I'm with you so it's good," I replied, giving her a good imitation of a gallant bow.

She laughed and removed her jacket. Absentmindedly, she handed the garment to me too.

There was a mild breeze, unusual for a Chicago afternoon especially in June. The breeze was coming from the lake, which I belatedly realized, was where Bella was heading. Barefoot with the thick grass protecting the soles of her small feet, she was almost skipping to the edge of the natural lake.

A small wind whipped her hair gently against her face and shoulders.

I couldn't seem to help my reaction. I stared at her, minutely watching for any change in her expression or body language.

It had been more than four years since Bella was last confined in a hospital. I still have chills whenever I would recall that episode – an episode that her doctors considered mild but still a remission of sorts – that necessitated an overnight stay back at Mercy Hospital, about 16 months after she was released by Dr. Santiago.

It was an unexpected reaction to a chemical, an ingredient in a beverage that she had, but her doctors couldn't be sure. She was placed under observation for 24 hours and then was declared fine and "clean" at the end of those two days. It wasn't strictly a breakdown, but she did display a reaction similar to an epileptic attack. Needless to say, it put me back on my guard again and at times, it seemed I have a difficult time shaking off my anxiety.

Bella suddenly turned to me. She sensed what I was thinking, she knew me too well. She could feel the stiffening of my body, my stillness.

And then she smiled, a reassuring beautiful smile. She reached a hand inside her skirts pocket and paused.

"Ducks," she murmured, giving me another sideways grin.

My heart skipped a beat. I fucking loved that smile. That smile could obliterate any doubts I have about this, about her and the reality of our life together.

"I thought you can't stand ducks, Swan?" I teased, relaxing my shoulders. Nothing would ever happen again, I would make sure of it. Since that episode four years ago, we were very careful of what we eat, what we drink. It was just something that we did, a lifestyle.

Bella shook her free hand and waved it dismissively.

"I love them! I came prepared, see?" She removed her hand from her pocket and opened her palm. She brought bread crumbs and some pieces of the muffin she had earlier.

She threw the shredded bread in the general direction of the birds and laughed when several ducklings were bold enough to venture almost to the edge of the lake to get more of the crumbs.

Still giggling, Bella whirled around and then her arms were around me. My eyes focused on her pink, smiling lips and suddenly those lips were all I could see, and I couldn't stop thinking about kissing her.

I must have been wearing a fierce, hungry look, because she herself was giving me an odd look. I swallowed and discreetly adjusted myself. There was only one thing to do.

"Let's go home, baby."

* * *

"Edward! Please!"

I bit off a grunt and a groan when Bella's nails raked down my back and lower still. Her hands firmly grabbing my ass like talons, urging me on and on, to undulate harder and faster inside her tight core.

I reared back and slammed back down, rocking the bed with the force of my movement.

"Yes! Oh god, please!"

"Fuck, Bella," I grunted. I sat up suddenly, slipping out. I pulled her body towards me, guided her legs to wrap around my torso and re-entered in a deep thrust. I leaned over her, grabbed her hands and placed them on the bed frame, with my hands on top of hers. The anchor allowed me to speed up and build more friction with the new angle.

I watched her breasts move up and down as I rode her until she was keening. Fuck, I loved the noises she makes during sex. I closed my eyes and increased my momentum.

"Now, Bella," I said, rather mildly. My heart was about to fucking burst.

And always, on cue, she clenched around my throbbing cock, letting go of the wrought iron to cling to my shoulders as she lifted herself off the bed to hug me tighter and shuddered and cried her release.

I gripped her waist, pulled her even more closer and pushed my tongue inside her mouth.

"I love you," I moaned against her open mouth, still gasping from the tremors of her orgasm. I poured everything that I have in me, my essence and my soul, into her warmth.

* * *

"I love you," she said groggily, awhile later. She was lying on her side, her back to my chest.

"Welcome back," I teased lazily. My eyelids drifted shut. So far, it was the best birthday I have ever had.

I hugged Bella tighter to me. We were lying so close together that I felt her heartbeats. It was not slowing down in preparation for slumber. In fact, it seemed to have started to pound a little bit faster.

I raised my head to look at her. "What is it, baby?" She'd been almost dead-tired but now something must have woken her.

She shifted her body until we were facing each other. There was enough light by the window to see her frown.

"Bella, tell me," I said, quietly.

"Edward, tomorrow …" She stopped, biting her lower lip. Gently, I caressed her face, trying to calm her enough to continue. "Tomorrow, I have another appointment."

"Where? Do you want me to go with you?"

"It's with Dr. Halperin."

I sat up and leaned over her, to better see her eyes. "Is this a regular appointment?" Dr. Halperin was her gynecologist and I knew Bella sees her every six months.

"No. I …" she stopped, worrying her lip again.

"Bella, it's alright. Tell me." I leaned down and kissed her nose.

"I'm late, Edward. Three weeks."

She sat up suddenly and was about to hop out of bed when I gently stopped her.

"Bella, we've talked about this. We are ready to have a baby."

We have discussed about having children a long time ago, when we decided to first move in together. I remembered several arguments and some very emotional discussions that ensued. We weren't a typical couple and bringing in a new member, a little person, was something the whole family would have to get involved with. Throw in her doctors' opinions and the baby topic took on a life of its own.

She breathed out an unsteady breath. "I know, Edward. I am ready. Ready as you are. But I can't help but feel scared. What if our baby becomes sick, too? Sick ... like me?" she stammered.

I felt something squeeze in my chest whenever I would hear Bella talking about her doubts and insecurities. There was a possibility that our child would inherit her medical condition. This was something that we would have to deal with when that probability becomes a reality but until then, we had decided that it wasn't going to stop us or prevent us from conceiving.

"Bella, you know that you and I will be the most dedicated parents to our baby, or babies even. Isn't that what I promised you, and I distinctly recall you making the same promise to me in the shortest wedding vows I had ever heard," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

It was true though.

Two years ago, about 45 minutes before the ceremony, my brilliant and always prepared sister decided that we should write our own vows. Bella, the aspiring writer, balked at the task and managed to say only 10 words to me, the shortest wedding promise in the history of matrimonial oaths.

"I still remember my vows," she said, shyly. I peered closer and yes, as I suspected, she was blushing.

"It's the least you can do considering they are just 8 or 10 words," I scoffed teasingly.

Bella, turning serious suddenly, cupped my face between her small hands. She gazed deeply into my eyes and I saw tears. Tenderly, she kissed my mouth. "Edward Anthony Cullen, I love you with all my life, my soul, you are my forever. I promise to love you more everyday. You and me. Nothing is impossible to a willing heart."

It was unmanly, the least macho thing really, to admit that my heart was wildly fluttering at her words. There were no words appropriate enough for this, no single phrase to express how much I fucking loved this amazing woman.

I leaned down and brushed the barest, lightest, most gentle of kisses on my wife's lips.

It was the sort of moment I wanted to remember for the rest of my life, and what a life it would be, with my Bella.

"We're ready for anything and everything, wife," I said gruffly.

"You will always love me," she whispered, her words said in utter confidence.

"You have no idea," I murmured. I held her hand to my chest, near my heart. I couldn't bear to be separated from her, not at this moment. Not even by a mere inch.

* * *

*****a/n**

This is it. Thank you for reading, and goodnight.

Epilogue posted: August 21, 2011


End file.
